The Spider-Verse
by StormCity
Summary: Continued after Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse. After the Collider was destroyed, none of the heroes thought they'd ever get to see each other again. Except they would, this time with more of them than before. For there is something much greater going on in the multiverse, and all have to but unite to stop it.
1. Sunflower

**A/N: Spoiler Alert! If you haven't watched the movie, please watch it first. Spoilers ahead.**

 **I had always wanted to write a spider-verse fic, but hadn't given much thought about it. But then I watched this incredible movie, and I felt compelled to write one anyway. I got so into it that I just couldn't live without this, and the characters in the movie. I don't think I have enough words to describe this movie, but it was beautiful, wonderful, incredible... Only those who have watched it can appreciate its beauty.**

 **Anyways, we all have a lot of questions, hopes and expectations about the sequels and spin-offs, and I have tried to incorporate some of those into my own fic, along with my own ideas for a spider-verse story. I hope you enjoy.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1: Sunflower**

Young and old, the crowd of people around Peter Parker's grave never ended. The ever grateful were always seen sending their love and prayers to their beloved, departed hero. In most of the hearts of New York, Spider-Man had attained a special place, a place that would eternally be preserved.

In the days following his death, the city had turned to gloom. Spider-Man was gone forever, and so were the sense of safety and hope. People no longer walked the streets carefree anymore. Dragged with their every step and movement was the nagging feeling of doubt and uncertainty. And most of all, fear.

And then, as if a blessing sent from heaven, news and talks spread about strange, spider-themed heroes sighted in and around Queens and Brooklyn. These weren't crazy fans in cosplay. Rumors had spread that even what looked like a pig in spider gear was seen with these weirdos, battling some of the city's deadliest villains. Nobody believed these rumors, until footage from several sources confirmed the same.

And just as they had appeared, they disappeared. It would forever remain a mystery as to who they were, and what had taken place that night when the sky had almost blown itself apart.

But one of them stayed behind. People weren't exactly sure if he had stayed behind, or if this was a new guy, but he could be sighted frequently patrolling the skies of the city, most of his movements being centred in and around Brooklyn. This wasn't Peter Parker. It could never be. This one was much younger, bringing back to many people their memories of when the original Spider-Man had been first sighted. It was all that people needed to bring back their hopes and joy. New York had a Spider-Man again.

Children were out on the streets once more, and everything seemed to return to normal. Miles Morales was more than glad about it.

Today the sun shone brightly in the morning sky. The last traces of rain had disappeared and the smell of earth and soft grass filled the air. A kid walked past with his mother, just having visited Mr. Parker's grave with a whole bunch of flowers. The place was always overflowing with flowers and letters. People wrote their thoughts and prayers and placed them, sealed in envelopes, before Spider-Man's grave. Miles had no idea where the letters ended up later, but they never stopped coming.

As the place cleared, Miles walked up to the grave. Despite all, it wasn't in the least bit _littered_. Everything looked so much in place.

As for himself, Miles had come with a fresh cutting of sunflowers his mother had bought him. He put them among the others, and sat down on the grass.

"Hey Mr. Parker," he said to the stone which had Peter Parker's name engraved in it. "Hope you are doing well. Wherever you are." He looked around to see if there was anyone near enough to hear him. Finding no one, he relaxed. "Time for the updates I guess?" Miles looked at the grave stone as if waiting for it to reply. But nothing happened. "Very well," Miles said, "The city's safe, for now. The police is doing a great job these days, and the crimes are minimal." Miles sighed. "I just wish I could say to you that the crimes are no longer there. But that won't be the case, will it? I just want you to know that… we miss you. We _all_ miss you. And if you are out there, somewhere, watching over us, maybe you can relax. I'm here. You can count on me."

Miles stood up. It was time to go. He didn't have much to say, but his obligations would always end him up here, even if there was just a word or two to offer. At the last minute, before turning around, he said, "Hope you are proud of me. I just wish I had known you better."

Something made him smile. He remembered that night, standing before the grave, utterly helpless and sorry, feeling that he couldn't do it alone. He'd thought he couldn't save the city alone. He needed Peter Parker. And as if by God's grace, Peter Parker he had found. Or more precisely, Peter Parker had found him. "You know what?" Miles said, "I think you would have made a good teacher."

* * *

The moon shone high and bright in the night sky, casting its cold, gray light over every corner of the city. There were no stars tonight.

A light wind blew over the streets, whistling its eerie, threatening song, warning of something unpleasant ahead. The dry leaves strewn over the pavement rattled, and from out of nowhere, a rat scurried its way through the wet streets into the sewer. A car with bright headlights raced past, causing the puddles of water on the broken road to ripple. Other than that, and the bats which hung upside-down on the ash tree at the corner of the road that led to the woods, there was no other sign of life tonight. Everyone had decided to stay indoors.

A man dressed in dark gear and a black trench coat came crashing down onto the pavement. As soon as he hit the ground, the wind blew harder near him. His hat lay beside, torn in half.

The man stood up. His face was hidden under a mask. There were goggles for his eyes.

Right then, there was another thump and a huge figure landed on his feet, almost cracking open the concrete footpath. He had long hair tied behind him, and was dressed in a rather traditional way, something akin to suits of the eighteenth century gentlemen. He was bulky and gigantic. His arms must have weighed about a ton. But there was something odd about him: he had colour.

Spider-Man knew immediately. This person, if he was colourful, like the Rubik's Cube Miles Morales had given him, did not belong to this world. And judging by the damage and injuries he had inflicted on Spider-Man, it was certain that the latter was no match for him. This wasn't a regular villain that crawled through the streets, and Spider-Man somehow felt, in the back of his mind, that he was in grave trouble.

The pain shot up in his chest as he reached for his pistols. "You aren't from around here." he said to the man. There was nothing he could do right now. He couldn't run. He might have fractured a bone. The man had seen to that.

"No," the man said after a pause, his face dead cold, revealing nothing, eyes looking greedily at Spider-Man.

"Wasn't a question," Spider-Man said and pulled out his guns. Before the man could even move a muscle, he fired blindly at him. Multiple rounds. But he already knew that it was useless. Something in him had been suggesting that. The man was bleeding all over, but he had hardly flinched. His huge frame loomed over Spider-Man, encasing him in his large shadow.

And then, with one swift movement, he leaped at Spider-Man and caught him by the neck, choking him.

"What do you want?" Spider-Man managed to say.

The man licked his lips and smiled, revealing long and pointed, vampire-like teeth. "All that my needs require is a totem like you."

* * *

Miles sat back on his chair and admired his work. Another hour of finishing touches, and the poster of Spider-Gwen would adorn yet another wall of his room in his parents' house. Only yesterday he had completed a life-sized sketch of Spider-Ham (which wasn't much big, since Spider-Ham hardly reached up to his waist), which was now on the wall opposite the foot of his bed, somewhere under which, safely hidden in a carton, was Ham's present to Miles: His hammer. It had never fit any of Miles' pockets.

Speaking of them, Miles really missed their company. Sometimes he really wished they could all meet again, perhaps, go on an adventure. Hiking, for instance? It would really be an adventure, except that it wasn't possible, since the collider was now destroyed, and nobody in their right minds would ever think of reconstructing it again. Only except, maybe, Gwen. Miles had no idea how she had done it, although she couldn't completely leave her dimension. She had said something about a prototype collider which wasn't effective enough in transporting anything at all. Just, maybe, open a slit wide enough to only look through into other dimensions, but that was two months ago, and Miles had not seen or heard of her since.

Miles knew thinking of them wouldn't help, until Gwen could manage to break through the dimensional gate to see him one more time, and so he dismissed the thought. But memories of Gwen Stacy still haunted him. He would often wonder if she had already forgotten him, the promise of their friendship disintegrated... inevitably broken.

"Miles!" a familiar voice bounced off the walls of the room, and Miles, startled, fell butt-first onto the ground.

As if an answer to his question, the room illuminated and a spiral of brilliant light grew wider and wider before him. It was broad daylight but Miles had to shield his eyes.

A figure appeared from within the spiral. Gwen Stacy.

"Miles," she said, beaming at him, "Got a minute?"

* * *

"That's a twenty-third, Miguel."

"Great," Miguel said, looking up from his work, "And who do we have here Lyla? What's the background story?"

Lyla, Miguel's holographic assistant, scowled, putting her virtual hands on her virtual hips, looking like a primary school teacher reprimanding her student for not doing homework. "You know I only search up and find universes, Miguel. Reading history is _your_ work."

"Yeah, yeah. Fine. But show me. Is it a Peter Parker, or is it some Bruce Banner this time?"

The multitude of the huge screens showed a planet similar to Miguel's earth, and zoomed in on New York of that dimension. The screen went blank for a second, and then it lit up again, this time focusing on a young man, who was surely in his early or mid-twenties. He had brown hair, and little elongated but quite a good-looking face. Now he wore a black, half sleeved t-shirt over a white, full sleeved one. His trousers were violet.

The screen went crazy and went back to an instant where the man was entering the foyer of an enormous building. He took out an ID and the screen zoomed in on it.

"Peter Parker," Miguel read, "ESU. And that would be?"

"Empire State University, Miguel. Do read the history books."

Miguel rolled his eyes. "Whatever. And this is Spider-Man?

The screen went crazy all over again, a blur of different colors, and stopped at a view which showed Peter Parker packing something in a suitcase. It was the Spider-Man suit. The screen went blank again.

The next view showed him throwing the case into the river. Peter Parker stayed there for another second, and then turned around and walked away, not looking back.

"Wait," Miguel said, leaning towards the screen, his hands resting on the control panels. "Did he... did he just throw away his suit, Lyla?"

"It appears so," Lyla said.

* * *

"So how did you mange to bring me here?" Miles said to Gwen as they walked out of her neighborhood.

"I did some _real_ meddling of my own," Gwen said proudly.

"Really?" Miles said, his disbelief clear in his voice.

"Yeah, I just needed more power, and I have been charging the thing since last month. It's not that difficult, you know? It's just the size of a pen. The prototype Collider." Gwen stretched her thumb and index fingers, as if holding a pen by its ends. "Didn't know it would end up bringing _you_ here."

"And what about the other dimensions?"

She shook her head and shrugged. "No. I still can't. I think this was a prototype of the Collider Doc built which they had used the first time. The one which brought me. I think it only connects your world to mine. Technical faults, or was it intention, I don't know. Remember I was the first one to arrive?"

"Yeah," Miles said, his slight, temporary hope of seeing the others drowning once again.

"So what do you think of _my_ New York?"

"It's a lot like mine," Miles said, looking around, turning his head from side to side. Even though he knew it, he was quite surprised and intrigued by the resemblance between the two worlds. It was as if he was walking in his own New York, re-painted, though. "Except maybe that you've got a lot of green and yellow here. And pink."

Gwen laughed. "Anything else?"

Miles thought for a minute. "The cars look pretty much the same. I even recognize some of the buildings and shops. That mall," Miles pointed at a huge mall across the street, "I have it on my Earth too. Only that the stairs to the entrance are gray and not green."

Gwen laughed again. "Does the Gwen Stacy of _your_ world _not_ have blond hair?" she asked.

Miles turned to look at her, amazed he had never had the thought earlier. "I don't even know if there's a Gwen Stacy on my Earth," he said, already welcoming the idea. "But thanks. I'll try looking around for her."

Walking beside her, Miles felt a hint of shyness crawling in, tickling his sensations. This was the moment he had been daydreaming for weeks, reminding himself from time to time that it would never come, but here she was, walking right beside him, when he had been wondering if she had remembered him at all. But there were other questions pulling his leg. Questions he dared not ask, but was desperate to know.

"Gwen?" he said, his heart beating a thousand times every second.

"Yeah." Her voice, as always, was casual and open. Miles always felt she had a welcoming air around her, and that was what allowed him to even dare to ask.

Miles looked away from her, deciding not to look even straight ahead. "Do you… _did_ you ever have a… boyfriend? Do you?"

"I don't remember," she said, her voice funny, and then she laughed. "But why? Do _you have_ a girlfriend?"

Miles shook his head. "No. I mean, I _did_ have a lot of crushes."

" _Oh_ , and what about now?"

Miles shook his head harder than he would usually do. "No," he lied. He tried to keep his voice as steady as possible. "What about you?"

"Yeah," Gwen said, her voice sounding as if she was counting down a long list of all the hearts she had broken. "I _had_ quite a few, but unfortunately they all turned out to be jerks, and I lost interest. But that was ages ago." Gwen laughed to herself.

But Miles felt fortunate about that. He was constantly aware of how close he was to her. He could feel her, at the back of his eye; her lithe figure, her perfect body with her perfect dancer's legs, swiftly moving back and forth, keeping pace with his own. Suddenly Miles was tempted to…

Miles' eyes fell on the gift and flower shop across the street opposite him. He felt for his pockets, and his fingers brushed against what he knew was some cash he had kept for buying hot dogs from his favorite stall.

"-and I was like 'no', please I don't want to, but he was still after me, and one day…" Gwen was saying.

"I'll be right back," Miles said, patting her on the shoulder. It was a nice shoulder.

Gwen stopped blabbering. "Wait, Miles? Where are you going?"

Miles turned to her, already on the other side of the street. "Just a minute. I'll be right back. Just stay there!"

* * *

"Are you sure you can go dimension-hopping once again?" Lyla asked.

"I think so," Miguel said, welding a grain of a computer chip into what looked like a watch. "Although I'm pretty sure there'll be complications. This thing's battery will drain out before I can open fifty portals." He sighed, "Two months, Lyla. Two months and sixty gizmos. Not much improvement. I just don't know how I'm gonna do it."

"Relax, Miguel. You've done a lot. Besides, look at this. I've found _another_ universe."

Miguel looked up from his desk. "And tell me about it. I don't have the time to go through the history."

"Uh, here we go again, lazy genius."

"No _seriously_ ," Miguel's voice shot up, "What do you think of me? Some kind of multi-tasking robot? No! I'm only a _scientist_! Respect that, Lyla!"

"You're such a child."

"Stop complaining and tell me nitwit!"

Lyla huffed. "The person you are looking for is a boy named Pavitr Prabhakar. Genius, prodigy, studious. He's Indian. This is not even New York you're looking at. It's Mumbai."

Miguel put down his equipment, stood, and walked over to the screens. He took a good look at the picture. "A Spider-Man from another country. Now _that's_ interesting!" He hurried back to his desk, opened a metallic box, and pulled out a watch-like device. He strapped it on to his wrist. "I'm gonna go to this universe first. Say hello. Then I'm gonna go to the other and ask Peter Parker why his suit is on the bottom of the river."

"Such childish desires!"

"Shut up."

"Do you remember what had happened the last time you crossed the dimension barrier?" Lyla asked, laughing to herself. "Your over-excitement brings you down at times."

"Relax Lyla, not _every_ Spider-Man is an arrogant ass-ed, accusing pointer who only points at others."

" _You're_ excited!"

"No am not. I'm just enthusiastic."

"As you wish, Miguel," Lyla droned, which was intentional. Miguel pressed down some buttons and tapped on the display of his watch, and was about to twist the dial, when Lyla gasped. It was something she hardly did, although Miguel remembered he had intended her to be _as_ human _as possible_. And that _did_ bring some complications at times. "Miguel!" she called, "Wait! Look at this!" Her voice was a promise of urgency.

"What is it?" he said, and hurried back to the screens.

But then what he saw caught his breath.

* * *

"You bought me sunflowers?" Gwen smiled.

Miles turned red in his face. Uncontrollably.

When she turned to him, he was looking at her. He looked funny, though. " _What_?" she asked, perplexed.

"Your hair," he said, pointing at her head. "It's growing." Miles would have slapped himself right then and there. He hardly knew what to speak, and secretly, he was wondering what Gwen must be thinking of him.

Gwen rolled her eyes. " _Duh_! Doesn't hair grow in _your_ universe?" she asked.

Miles blushed even more. "It does."

"By the way," Gwen said, changing the subject, "Do you know that you bought me flowers with _my_ money?"

Miles stopped dead. He hadn't realized it earlier. When he had gone to the flower shop, he had felt lucky for having some cash with himself. But only when he was about to pay, he had realized that the currency in this dimension could look different. Which it actually did. So he had run back to Gwen, borrowing a dollar from her. And now Gwen had to tease him about it.

"I promise I'll return it to you."

Gwen chuckled. "You don't need to."

Miles shook his head. "Some day I will. I promise."

"You don't need to."

"I'll pay you back a bit more. As in interest."

"Miles!"

Miles shut his half-open mouth and turned to look at her. "What?"

"You don't need to," Gwen insisted, stopping to look at him. She put a hand on his shoulder. "Just promise me one thing."

"Anything," Miles said, pinching the skin of his neck.

"Promise me you'll never break our friendship. Never. Ever."

Miles shrugged. "Yeah, sure. Why would I? But," he raised his finger, "I'll pay you back. Sure. Some other time, maybe. But… wait. What time is it, anyway?" Miles pulled back his sleeve to look at his watch. And he gasped. It was a quarter past one, and his parents must have been frantic searching for him.

"Gwen," he said to her, who was looking at him, real confused, "I gotta go. My parents must be back, and it's lunch time. I _really_ need to get going."

"Okay," Gwen said, already increasing the pace of her strides, "Let's get you home."

* * *

Miguel saw it.

He saw a thin man with long hair brushed neatly backwards. He wore a dark overcoat which ran down to his knees, engulfing a lot of his lean frame. He was dressed more or less in an old fashioned way. Very, very old fashioned way. Something like in the seventeenth or eighteenth centuries maybe. Miguel could not tell. He wasn't very good at history. He could only guess.

The man was dragging a Spider-Man behind him. Miguel didn't recognize this one. He was from an altogether new dimension which he had just now come across. The Spider-Man of that world looked thoroughly beaten. Injured. Broken. The man dragged him atop a damaged car so that the people could see them.

And then...

Miguel would never forget the next thing he saw. The man brought his face close to Spider-Man's head, and… bit down his skull. There was a brilliant, blinding flash. When Miguel could see again, the Spider-Man didn't look like a Spider-Man anymore. What was left could hardly even be called a corpse. It looked as if all the blood and matter had been drained out of him.

The man threw the body at the crowd of the horrified onlookers. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and hopped down the car. Casually walking away from the people, he vanished into thin air.

* * *

They stood before the spiraling bright light.

"So, see you around, I guess" Gwen said, looking timid for the first time.

"Sure," Miles smiled at her. It was easier to look at her when she wasn't looking at him. "I'll let you know my routine, and we can be together."

" _Be together_?" Gwen raised an eyebrow.

"Sure," Miles said, clearly missing her emphasis. He stepped into the portal. "I bet it'll be sooner. Right?"

"I'll try," Gwen said, looking down, shuffling her feet. "I'll have to keep this thing charging daily, then. And, can you make me another promise?"

Miles straightened up. "Anything." He was tempted to say "Anything _dear_ " but knew better. "What is it?" he asked.

"If you meet the other Gwen… the Gwen of _your_ world, just don't… you won't forget me, will you?"

Miles was more than glad to hear her say that. But he feigned surprise and blinked, trying to make his reaction as natural as he could. "Huh?"

Gwen blushed. "Nothing. Nothing at all. Pretend I didn't say that. Just forget it."

Miles smirked. "I heard it," he said and Gwen looked away. "And that's totally ridiculous, Gwen. How am _I_ supposed to forget you?"

Gwen shrugged. "Just a thought," she said, avoiding his gaze.

"But, just one more thing, Gwen. When I reach my world, where am I going to end up? I mean, where am I gonna step into, when I… step _out_ of the portal?"

A mischievous smile lit up Gwen's face as she looked up. "Somewhere where you won't land upon top of somebody. Now hurry, before the power runs out."

* * *

When Miles stepped out of the light, presumably in the other universe, _his_ universe, the first thing he saw was himself. It was another second before he realized that he was staring at his own reflection. In the mirror. The mirror of his bathroom. Gwen was clever. The best place _was_ his bathroom, because his parents wouldn't, by any chance, be here.

He opened the tap and put his hands under the warm water, getting ready for lunch, smiling at himself in the mirror, imagining it was Gwen on the other side instead of him.

"Hey Gwen," he said, "Would you like to go out for dinner?" He wondered how Uncle Aaron would have taught him to do it. He put soap in his palm. "I'll… wear a tux. What about you?" He beamed at the mirror, showing his teeth. "Call me soon, okay?" _Too creepy_ , he thought, _she'll probably run away if I talk to her like that_.

It was only when he turned to leave the bathroom did he realize why her smile had been so mischievous. He should have thought about it the second he had stepped in.

No one used the bathroom except him. Ganke would, when he stayed over, but he wasn't here this weekend. How silly!

Miles was locked in his own bathroom from the outside.

* * *

People still talked about them.

Two months could have passed, but people's thoughts still wandered back to the day when the five heroes were spotted. That was all they talked about. Even now. Because they were never spotted again.

The coffee had run cold, long forgotten on the small glass table beside the couch. The fire was still running in the hearth. That, along with the photo of her and Peter burned MJ's eyes, causing tears to flow down.

Evenings were especially painful. They amplified emotions. She stared at the picture of the five mysterious heroes. People _did_ call them "heroes". The footage was all over the news. It was viral over social media and even You Tube. MJ had taken a screen shot of the part which showed them fighting a gang of villains right outside the house she was in right now.

May knew them. She had met them, and she had helped them. People had lined up outside their house. For the first two weeks, media personnels crowded their porch and their living room. With time, their visits ceased, after May's repeated answer to them: she didn't know who those people were, and how they had ended up in her place. The old Spider-Man's place.

But MJ knew all too well how it had actually been. May had told her. May had told her everything, except who they were. Who they really were under the mask. And MJ didn't bother asking. She was too scared about the possibility that the Spider-Man who's costume looked so much like her very own husband's wasn't Peter.

She should have known. As soon as she had returned from Fisk's gathering and saw the news, the thought had occurred to her almost instantaneously. The two costumed people -the Spider-Man and the girl dressed in the white Spider suit- she had met earlier were in the footage.

When May had confronted her about who they actually were, and what those earthquakes were actually about, her hopes had intensified. The voice of the waiter, the pose, the gestures… it resembled so remarkably that of her very own Peter's.

Ever since, MJ had been restless. Sleepless. She couldn't take it anymore. Today she would talk to May. No matter _what_ the answer was.

The door opened and May walked in. In her hand she held her own mug of coffee. She sat down beside her. Turned on the television.

MJ fought to keep her voice steady. "May," she managed.

"Yes dear," May said, cradling her mug as steam rose.

"I… I wanted to know." She showed the screen of her phone to May, zooming in on the portion of the picture which had Spider-Man. The one that resembled her late husband.

The look of cool and compose faded from May's face. She turned to look at MJ, her eyes a hue of comforting yet broken blue. "What is it?" she merely whispered the words.

Tears rolled down MJ's cheeks once again, only this time, she sobbed. And then she cried. Cried like she did when she had lost her mother. Like a child who lost a very precious toy and knew it would never be found again.

May put her mug on the floor and pulled MJ into a hug. God alone knew what this lady had to go through. Maybe after everything that she had lost, her husband, her own parents, any other known relative, the loss of her nephew, her only _son_ , although the biggest shock in her life, was something she could handle well with her outer appearance. She rubbed MJ's back. "What is it my child?" May said very kindly, although she knew what it was all about.

MJ sobbed, clutching at May's sweater tightly. "Was it… was it him?" She had spoken the words as if she were casting a dangerous spell.

May stroke her head, a shock of red that Peter had so much daydreamed about in his childhood. "Yes," she said. "It was him. It was Peter. Peter Benjamin Parker. He…" Now it was May who had tears in her eyes, "He was _just_ like our Peter. He talked like him. He looked like him. Only that… he was… older. And in pain. So _much_ in pain." May wiped the tears away from MJ's face. "I looked at him and knew. He was… he was looking at your picture, Mary. Your picture at the workshop. And I knew at once what was going through him." May swallowed and took in a deep breath. "No matter where he is, Mary Jane, he'll always love you. Always." Her voice cracked up at the last word, and she decided she wouldn't speak anymore.

MJ thought about the encounter she had had in Fisk's gathering. It was by no chance a coincidence. A small smile gradually spread in her face. "I met him."

* * *

 **Note: I hope you could figure out which Spidey I had written about, when Miguel found out that he had disposed his suit into the river...or sea. I'm talking about the Empire State University Peter Parker here. Yes, it was the Spider-Man of Earth-760207. Google it if you still haven't found out. This Spider-Man featured in "The New Animated Series" back in the early 2000s.**

 **Also, please leave a review if you liked the story. I'll be forever grateful. I'll be back with the next chapter soon.**


	2. Her

**Happy New Year to all!**

 **Thank you everyone who have read, reviewed, favorited and followed this story. You really inspired me to carry on! This, and the rest of the future chapters are for you. Thanks, once again, to MarvelousManiac, MaMcMu, SchismFES, Hamers, beau evans, Wlyman2009, BigbyWolf for leaving their reviews.**

 **I would like to say it once again that scenes from the Spider-Man: Into The Spider-Verse still play inside my head, and I can watch it again, and again, and again. In fact, I already did, after posting the first chapter. Once again I was mesmerized and touched by the plot development of the film. It's _that_ amazing. And I'm willing to watch it again.**

 **So... here you go.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2: Her**

 **Earth-1610**

Miles Morales dragged himself towards his classroom. He was early that morning. Last night had been busy chasing a car thief all the way to Long Island, and when he had gotten back in the morning, it was already six, and he found himself in his Brooklyn Visions uniform pulling on his dirty socks which badly needed washing. The clock in his room, as he would discover later, had shown the wrong time, and he had skipped breakfast to reach class on time. And that was perhaps the worst mistake he had made. Sleep deprived and starved as he was, every step felt like dragging a mountain behind him.

Gwen Stacy was everywhere in his peripheral vision. For a moment, she was that surprisingly tall tower of a girl staring weirdly at him, and the next moment (it was a terrible moment), she was that blond girl cuddling and kissing her boyfriend at the top of the stairs. Out of the blue, a girl went rushing past him, bumping against his shoulder, and she looked like Gwen.

When he entered his class, it was practically vacant, except maybe for five or six students including himself. Miles made his way to his regular spot and, putting down his backpack, sat down with a thump. Something about his classmates disturbed his consciousness. They were busy writing or scribbling, which was strange, because nobody ever did that at this time of the hour. And then, as if a car crashing onto another, it came crashing down on him that he had homework.

He turned around, searching for Ganke, his roommate, and there he was, staring at Miles with a foolish blank face, at the back of the room.

" _My homework"_ , Miles mouthed and gestured at him, making out the shape of a file with his hands. It was another thirty seconds before Ganke understood and bent down to fiddle with his bag.

Being best buds with Ganke had a plus point over all the plus points you'd have of being best buds with your best bud: Ganke did his homework, if ( _and only if_ ) Miles was busy Spider-Man-ing out there on the cold, bleak night world.

Ganke aimed the blue file at him, and it sent a chill down Miles' spine, because Ganke had a terrible aim -a really, _really_ terrible aim- and before Miles could say a word, the former flung it high above them, as if it were only a child's Frisbee.

The file spun at least ten feet above him, and if it hovered in the air another second, it would crash onto the newly-installed projector at the front of the class.

In split second, Miles pushed himself high off the ground and raising his tired hand above his head, caught the file, which sent a jolt down his torso. When Miles landed back on the floor, his hand was burning. He looked at Ganke who was muttering apologies, and scowled. He had really thrown it hard.

The remaining students looked up from their work. Miles pretended he didn't see them seeing him, and sat down on his chair. He opened his file, inside which must have been around four dozens of blank sheets with diagrams. These were all Miles' assignments, more than half of them done by his roommate.

He was thankful when the teacher walked in. The class got a little noisy as the rest of his fellow classmates rushed in to take their seats, and Mr. Turner waited patiently at the podium, scratching the back of his head, until the class settled down.

Miles' English teacher was a man in his mid-forties, balding with the remaining of his hair brown. He was a severe looking man which wasn't an exaggeration, because he _was_ severe. And quiet. He had this habit of scratching the back of his head whenever he did something. Sometimes Miles wondered why there weren't any scratch marks at the back of his head, which gleamed like those silly old metal water pipes back at his parents' house.

All of a sudden, Mr. Turner's eyes fell on Miles. One side of his lips curled up in a sly smile. "Look who's early today," his voice boomed across the class, catching everyone's attention. Mr. Turner had this loud bass of a voice which always went off with a sonic boom. "Mr. Morales. What happened, did Einstein's theory prove wrong today?" He scratched the back of his head.

"No, Sir," Miles replied, staring at his desk. He was feeling hot in the face.

"Anyways," Mr. Turner boomed again, "Let's go straight into the course now. Not another second to be wasted. Time is money. We stopped at future perfect tenses and its uses yesterday. Let us continue."

For the next thirty minutes, the class dragged on exploring the various uses and differences between the tenses. Miles had to take a sip of water. Anything to avoid falling asleep, because he knew the consequences if Mr. Turner found him drowsing in class. The teacher, as he had realized, had his eyes especially on him today, and anything Miles did that he wasn't supposed to, he would end up in detention.

Absent-minded that he was at the moment, he turned to his right to look at the empty seat beside him. Once again he was reminded of that one piece of puzzle he didn't have right now. He sighed. He felt a little wave of nostalgia pass through him. He always did, when he saw the chair. It reminded him of Gwen. He wondered, like the way he most often did, how school would have differed had she still been around. She had sat right there that day, beside him, the only one to have laughed at his lame joke of an explanation for being late to class. She had sat right there. That was why this seat was so special for him, and that was why he sat here daily, when the rest of the class kept changing places.

Miles often looked to his right, and imagined Gwen, chewing the blunt end of her pencil, her hands resting before her on the desk, trying to concentrate in what the teacher's voice was buzzing about. Occasionally she would glance at him and smile.

Right now she was scribbling on her notebook, taking notes.

But then, she held it upright and turned it sideways so that he could see what was written. On the page, scrawled across it in neat and large, cursive handwriting, were the words: Y _ou free tonight?_

"Yeah of course!" Miles said, and his face lit up, "Let's go for dinner! Or the movies!"

"Mr. Morales," a voice boomed, and Miles blinked. When he opened his eyes, Gwen had disappeared from her chair. Except, on the next seat, the girl was looking questioningly at him, her face an exhibition of shock and confusion.

Miles sighed and shut his eyes tight.

A restless day had been ensured.

* * *

Let us, for a moment, shift the light to the animal friendly, physics-defying and logic-defying world of **Earth-8311** , or, as Miguel O'Hara called it: Ham World. Things were a little interesting here, because you could fit a yard-long hammer into your trouser pocket. But don't bother about the science behind this dimension. Just take a light, omnipresent observation.

It was nine.

The fog was lifting and bright streaks of sunlight illuminated the morning road. It could have been a very pleasant morning. Christmas was one day away, and the sight of the eagerly decorated houses brought nothing but joy to the mind.

For one thing, it was still incredibly cold, and the warmth from the sunlight felt refreshing. Happy birds flew overhead, and happy critters took to the streets for the day. The vendors were once again out, back with their vending, happy that it had stopped snowing for a while.

It could have been a great start to the day, except for an unwelcomed guest too fond of robbing banks and destroying cars.

"You know what, Doc?" Spider-Ham said, backing off as a metallic paw of Doctor Octopussycat came crashing down at him, "I was having a really great day. That is, until your whiskered claws showed up."

" _It's your fault_ ," yelled Doc Ock, sending a car flying at Ham, "You should have left me by myself."

Spider-Ham did a forward-flip, avoiding the broken car by inches. "Well what didja expect? A happy ending?"

"Moderate ending," Ock shouted. "You don't know the lives we people live!"

Ham twisted in mid-air as he leaped at Doc Ock, landing a kick right across his head. "My, I'll bet you monsters lead interesting lives. Building tentacles for paws, added to that silly tail of yours. How catzy is that? What, didn't find a mouse for Christmas?"

"No, but I found you," growled Doc Ock, and charged head-first at him. "And stop talking like Bugs Bunny. You're not a rabbit. I hate rabbits."

"But then you never loved me!" Ham said. "You're delusional, Doc!" For once, he was getting really irritated. He was having a pretty nice start to his day. He had stopped a gang of thieves, handed them over to the police. The newspaper hadn't printed any front page accusing him of the missing spiders at the suburbs, and it was Aunt May's birthday. He had to reach home early and cook lunch. He wouldn't be able to do that if he was stuck on the street, fighting maniacs with metallic tentacles. "Doc, I really wonder why you weren't an octopus. A _real_ octopus. That way you'd be enjoying a great life under the sea, and I would be having a great day with my family today."

" _You have a family too_?" screamed Ock.

"A girlfriend and a mother, yes," said Ham, pulling out his double-pig-sized mallet. He struck at Ock, who dodged with his tentacles, and snatched it from Ham. Ock threw it away.

"Never mind," Ham said, pulling out another mallet, this time triple his size. "I have a bigger one."

Doc Ock looked innocently at him. "Meow?"

With one blow, before Doc could even wiggle his tail, Ham sent him flying to the end of the street. "That's momentum, Pussy Cat. Mass times velocity. Bigger mass, greater velocity." He pocketed his mallet. "Greater impulse."

Spider-Ham ran over to the eight-pawed cat who was lying growling before a food stall, sausages running down the sides of his face, sauce dripping from his whiskers. Webbing him up with the help of his web shooters, Ham picked up a piece of fried sausage and shoved it down his mouth.

"You're a spider of a pig," the gigantic stall-owner said.

"And you're a dinosaur of a buffalo," Ham said, throwing him a few coins. "Now keep the change."

* * *

 **Earth-65**

"No Gwen, no!" Harry Osborn said, "You're coming with me honey! No second thoughts."

" _What_?" Gwen said, her eyes wide with disbelief.

"He's right, Gwennie," said Betty, "I mean, you both are, like, a couple, right? So if Harry's going coupe-dancing with anyone, it's obviously _you_."

Gwen jumped off the couch. "You're _not_ serious, are you?"

"Of course I am!" exclaimed Betty. Then she smiled, as if realization had dawned on her. "You don't have to pretend."

"For your _own_ sake, Betty, Harry is _not_ my boyfriend."

"Ask _him_ that," Betty replied, pointing at Harry.

Gwen turned to face Harry. "What have you been telling people?"

"That wonderful night we had," Harry chuckled.

" _Shut up_! There was _no_ such wonderful night, okay? Never! Every night is _dreadful_. You're in over your head, you know?"

"Seriously. Gwen! I have nobody else to go with. There were a few girls asking me but I rejected them!"

"That's your fault. I already _have_ a partner," Gwen lied. There was no way she was going to that dance.

"You're bluffing," said Harry, scowling, "I know you are."

"See for yourself," Gwen said firmly, putting her hands on her hips.

"Heh."

"Really, see for yourself."

"Let's see."

"Yeah sure!"

"You lovers know what you are doing," Betty chimed in. "I'd better get going. Leaving the two of you to yourselves. Make things interesting, okay?"

" _Shut up_ ," Gwen snapped at her. "Before _I_ shut that mouth of yours."

Betty laughed. "And how will you do that?"

"I'll… stick your lips with glue."

Betty darted a pillow from their lazy couch at Gwen, who caught it just in time. She shook her head and commented: "Do me a favor, Gwennie, and try _not_ to joke around."

"Hey then, uh," Harry interrupted, "Betty, _you_ certainly have no problem with me, do you?"

"Oh _please_ ," Betty said, "If you've forgotten, I've already got myself a date for tonight."

Harry sighed. "Yeah right. You know what? I give up. Now you two stay here, while I go out there in the _real_ world. There's a lot of girls out there." He walked out and slammed the door shut behind him.

* * *

 **Earth-616**

Peter B. Parker gobbled down the last of his third burger, mayo and cheese oozing out of his mouth like drool as he chewed and hummed recklessly. Licking the ends of his fingers until the remaining traces of cheese dissolved into his tongue, he saw Mary Jane, seated opposite him, disgustingly looking at him, mild astonishment also showing on her face.

He understood. Dressed expensively as he was, in his late uncle's old suit of black trousers and a black coat over a new white shirt, a glossy red tie hanging down his neck, black and shiny leather shoes, and a Rolex on his left wrist which he had once afforded, he wasn't behaving accordingly, and for all he knew, MJ wasn't that carefree girl not caring who was standing behind her shoulder anymore.

Peter slowed down his chewing and pulled out a tissue paper from the vase at the center of the table and wiped his hands. MJ cleared her throat. He looked up at her, pretending he hadn't been aware of her watching him the entire time. "What?"

MJ raised an eyebrow. A weird smile was dangling on her lips. "That explains," she said, pointing at his belly across the table.

"Oh," Peter swallowed his food, "That. Yeah, you'll get used to it."

MJ looked down at her own plate of French Fries with something akin to surrender. Maybe a single burger had been enough for her appetite. "Meanwhile I'm having a hard time with these," she complained.

" _Already_?" Peter exclaimed.

MJ looked up, frowning, "Yeah, my stomach isn't a _tank_ like yours!"

Peter chuckled. "I'd bet it isn't."

"I've been watching you, you know?"

Peter leaned forward on his elbows, and smiled at her. To him, MJ been watching him was something like a dead lover found alive. "You have?"

"Yes! And I've seen you struggle with your movements. You've become slower, and stiffer. Sometimes I wonder if your webs can hold your weight, such real torture! And sometimes I wish they really don't, so that you fall off."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "And what will you do if I _do_ fall off, and crash my head somewhere and forget _everything_?"

"What am I gonna do, _party_ , of _course_!" MJ exclaimed with wide eyes. "What else?"

Peter smiled, and sat back, looking back at MJ adoringly. He was sure those were tears playing in her eyes. "What if I hurt my head and forget you? Forever?"

MJ stared back coldly at him. "Why do you even think I want you to hit your head in the first place?"

"You've been watching me," said Peter, still smiling.

"Yeah, it's not like you _don't_ appear on TV, do you? You are all over the news. _Always_."

The following minutes were silence. Peter, seated awkwardly, who had to push his chair back a bit to allow space for his belly, so that he could breathe peacefully. MJ, struggling with the remaining pieces of potatoes on her plate, her red hair hiding most of her face.

For once, Peter wondered if she knew the actual reason they were here tonight, in a costly restaurant, sitting on table he had booked two days ago, next to the balcony, overlooking the city. When he had gone to pick her up, he was afraid of how MJ would react at seeing him dress so immaculately, because he never wore such suits even when he went out on dates in his youth. And then, as if he had been worrying in vain, MJ turned out equally formally, in that black dress she had worn on the first anniversary of their married life.

After two months of seeing each other, Peter had decided it was time he tried again. Speak to her, talk things out, come to an understanding, but before that, give her that speech he had been practising yesterday night, the night before yesterday night, the night before that night, and who knew how many nights before.

He clamped his clammy hands together, crossed his trembling legs, licked his lips and straightened his back. Something didn't feel right. He coughed and pulled his chair closer, and got back to the previous position.

"Um, MJ?" he said slowly, half hoping she wouldn't hear him.

But she did. She looked up. "Yeah?" There was equal nervousness in her voice. It quavered. Maybe she was getting where this was going.

"I… I wanted to tell you something."

She flinched, yet nodded slightly and avoided his gaze. She began to play with her fork and the fries on her plate.

"MJ."

"Go on Peter. What is it?"

Peter's heart was pounding in his chest now, threatening to blow open his ribs. "I… have to tell you something."

" _Yes_ , _Peter_ , _I'm listening_." Almost dreadfully , she looked up at him. "What do you have to say?" she asked softly, yet desperately. Her uneasiness was in her eyes. "Peter?"

"Those fries look tasty."

"Peter!"

"I… I need to go to the bathroom."

* * *

 **Earth-8311**

Peter Porker hurried out of his red and blue attire hiding behind a tree in his backyard. It smelled disgusting there. It smelled like pigs.

Carefully packing his costume into his sling bag, and putting on whatever he had put on in the morning when he had left house, he tip-toed into the living room. Aunt May was out and Mary Crane wouldn't be coming before lunch. Peter smiled and snorted. He looked at the couch and could only think of lying down and dozing off, but right now he had to cook lunch. Ready the cutlery. Aunt May didn't like dusty cutlery after all. The cake would arrive in another hour. He had plenty of time to himself.

Just when he was about to climb onto the couch, he heard the clattering and clinking of dishes and spoons from the dining hall.

Peter crept out of the living room and when he rounded the corner, into the dining hall, he found a man seated on the dinner table, a fork and a knife on each hand, eagerly waiting, but for what, he had no idea. The man wore a white napkin across his chest, and took a sip of water from a glass. There was an empty dish before him. He smiled at Peter, revealing pointed canines. The man had long hair, neatly tied behind. Peter wondered if the man was actually a little balding at the front, or if he had a very high forehead. But whatever it was, he was dressed very weirdly.

Peter scurried over to him. "What's up doc?"

The man ran his fork over the edge of his knife. "You're going to be a _very nice_ dish of pork," he said, licking his lips.

"Ouch," Peter exclaimed, "Then I don't think I'll make it to this year's Christmas photograph with my friends, will I?"

The man chuckled. It was a dangerous little chuckle. "You're a little behind, aren't you? They celebrated Christmas much ahead of you."

"What do you mean they celebrated Christmas ahead of me?" Peter asked, and then, all of a sudden, it dawned on him. He tried to think of siting humans before, but nothing sprang up in his mind. At least not in his dimension. Slowly, daringly, he looked up at the man, who was out of his chair right now, looming over him. He was tall. Thin, not that thin, but tall enough for Peter's spider sense to go off.

Peter stepped back and the man stepped forward. "You're not from around here, are you?" Peter asked.

"No," the man said, greedily looking at him.

"How have you come here then? And why?"

"A nice, fleshy meat, you."

Peter gulped. "You really don't know who I am, do you?" His voice was squeaky.

The man smiled a menacing smile. "My meal."

Peter would have reached for the emergency hammer he kept in his pocket, but the man picked him up by the head in a flash. His grip was deadly strong. "I'm sorry," Peter squealed, "But who were you again? Predator?"

The man rubbed the back of his neck and cocked his head to the side. "Something like that. Name's Morlun."

* * *

 **Earth-1610**

"Oh man, that was _hardcore_!" Ganke said later that evening in their dorm when Miles had gotten back from detention.

"Yeah, pretty exciting," Miles said sarcastically, not meeting the other boy's gaze. He didn't want to. He was pretty pissed off with himself. He threw his backpack over his head and onto his bed, and climbed up, kicking his shoes off.

"What did he have you do? Mr. Turner, I mean."

"Ganke I don't want to talk about it."

"Was it _that_ bad?"

"No man, please _shut_ it. Leave me alone. _Please_." Miles' head hit the pillow, and he lay down, still in his uniform, socks and all. It had been a long day.

"Dude, you can tell me if you like-"

"I don't _want_ to, _okay_ , Ganke? Gosh, do you _even know how to stay quiet_?" _That was rude_ , Miles realized. Even though he was getting along much better with his new school since the last two months, the only person he could fully rely on was Ganke, and right now, he felt pretty bad being so rude to him. But that was the problem. As good as he was in keeping secrets, Ganke had an ear for gossips. He liked to hear news. Not just any news, but of all kinds.

Miles turned over on his bed, and crawled to the edge. "Hey Ganke?" he called, "I'm sorry."

Ganke nodded but didn't look back at him. "I know you're being sorry only so I do your homework again. Isn't it? You're just being fair."

"What?" Miles jumped off his bed. "No no no no no! No! Ganke, no man! That isn't it. You know it. Look. I'm not _like_ that, okay? Don't get me wrong. But the truth is, yes, you _do_ help me a lot, and there is no way I can help you back. So yes, I _do_ need to be nice… no. I mean… after all, I can't just be rude, right? I owe it to you man. Don't get me wrong."

"Fine, fine. Fine by me, Spider-Man. I was just kidding."

Miles leaned on the backrest of Ganke's chair. Time to change the subject. "Okay, but what are doing?" he asked. He knew of nothing else to say.

" _Your_ work, genius," Ganke replied as he typed into his keyboard. "You seem to be so into her that you've begun to see her in class. You have a pretty good imagination, I must say." He chuckled.

Miles leaned closer to take a better look at the screen. " _My_ work?"

"You told me you wanted to find the Gwen Stacy of _our_ world, so here I am doing it. Helping you once again."

Miles couldn't conceal his excitement. "Whoa! Whoa! Man! Really? Any luck yet?"

"No, but I've barely begun."

* * *

 **Earth-65**

"I'll just do our song and run off, I guess," Gwen Stacy was explaining to Glory Grant later that morning.

"Oh come on, everyone'll see," Glory said, throwing herself beside Gwen on the couch. "Harry'll be looking for you."

"Oh please," Gwen said, waving her hands, "Not that again."

"The guy's particularly into you Gwennie," Betty Brant leaned towards her, "He has his eyes glued on you. Seriously."

"You don't know," Gwen said, gulping down her cup of cold coffee and tingling her teeth. "I'm pretty good at slipping unnoticed."

"That won't be the case." The door slammed opened and Mary Jane stomped in. "You can't go after the opening."

"Who said that?" Gwen said, "I'm staying till we do all our songs."

" _Exactly_ honey," MJ emphasized, "That's exactly the point. But you can't go."

"That's _my_ choice."

"No, tiger, it isn't." She produced a sheet of crumpled paper from her purse. "See this?" she said, "This is tonight's agenda. We open the night, but the stage isn't ours all at once." The rest of the girls looked at her questioningly, unable to understand what she was saying. MJ sighed. "Alright. Listen."

"Yeah?" Glory said.

"Firstly there's the opening ceremony, then there's this long speech -I bet it's gonna stretch up to at least thirty minutes- then we are gonna do a song, and then there's this and that, and…uh… blah blah blah… there's this evening snacks to be served… then there's the drama, there's some jokes night, and then there's the-" she smiled at Gwen, "-couple dance, and then after that we do our last song, and at last the great dinner."

"Well that sounds tiring," Glory muttered.

"Which means," Betty pointed, "Gwen'll have to stay till the end." She did a high-five with MJ. "We'll watch the _cutest_ couple dance."

"Shut up," Gwen snapped, "Not with Harry Osborn."

MJ stopped smiling. "What do you mean?"

"She says she's not dancing with Harry," Glory said.

"Oh you've got to be _kidding_ me," MJ said.

"Why should I?" Gwen protested, "I'm not. Besides, I just _chased_ him off!"

MJ slapped her on the shoulder. "You _what_?"

"Yeah," Betty said, "Now Harry's off with some other girl, perhaps. And Gwen said she's already got a guy, when she's not."

MJ shook her head. "You'd better do something about it, girl. Find someone. Family, friends, anything. Anyone. Because all are invited. And by the way, I've given our names for serving snacks."

"You _what_?" Glory and Betty cried in unison.

"Shut it, animals," MJ scolded, "Besides, what are you gonna do besides hanging out with that jackal of your boyfriend, Betty?"

"But," Glory protested, "How can the four of us… only _four_ of us serve the _entire_ town? We're not androids!"

MJ rolled her eyes and showed all her ten fingers. "Twenty other people have volunteered, tiger."

"Tigress," Glory corrected.

"Why are you doing this to me?" Gwen asked, slowly looking up at MJ.

MJ shrugged. "Come on darling, don't show me that baby face. Why I'm doing this? You needed to get out there, girl, get out into the real world and… learn. The whole day you just sit in your room and shut yourself from us. That's not healthy."

"But-"

"No buts," MJ warned, putting on her jacket and heading for the door. The other two girls followed. "Band practice at twelve. Don't be late. And find a guy." The door slammed shut again, leaving Gwen all by herself.

"There's always a but," she muttered.

She got off the couch and walked over to the window. Outside it was a clear sunny day and below her on the street she could see her friends -band mates, since "friends" wasn't a thing she did around much- marching away in the direction of their school.

Something that MJ had said clicked in her head. Gwen hurried over to her study and picked her cellphone among the zillion things sprawled across the wooden surface. She dialed MJ's number.

MJ picked up on the third ring. _"Yeah what?"_ she said.

"You said family and friends were all welcome?"

" _That's what the mail and the card say."_

"So what if my partner is… a relative? Or… a family friend?"

" _That's your choice, Blondie. But I'd still vote for Harry Osborn."_

"Thanks MJ."

" _Yeah whatever."_

Gwen stepped back from the window. She sat down on her study and switched on the table lamp. She pulled back a drawer and picked up what looked like a metallic, silver pen. She held it between her hands and brought it under the light.

It had been more than two months ago when she had grabbed it from the Alchemax of Miles' dimension. Right now it glinted under the light. She wiped the device with the bottom end of her shirt.

She would put it under charge now. Effectively. Immediately. She only hoped that by the end of the day it had enough power to slit open the portal.

After all, she wasn't going to the dance all alone. If she really had to.

* * *

 **Do pardon me for the ten or eleven day gap for the updates. The past week was really busy and I tried my best to find time to write properly. I might continue at this pace: a new chapter every ten days, but I'll try my best not to take longer. Also, I'll see if I can at times reduce the gap to seven days for each updates, but seven days is not a guarantee. My job is to try my best and make it as enjoyable as possible.**

 **I hope you liked it. _Please_ _do_ leave a review and let me know what you think.**

 **Stay tuned for what happens next. Also, along with that, more MilesxGwen moments will be in the next chapter. So don't miss out!**


	3. Pairing Up

**Very Important:** Readers might have confused a few things in the first chapter. There was only one scene showing Spider-Noir, and that was the second scene of the chapter. Then later there was another scene where a man stood on top of a car and sucked out the life force of the Spider-Man before the people of that world. That Spider-Man wasn't Noir, and that man wasn't the one who had caught Noir in the second scene of the chapter. There's a difference. It had been mentioned that in Noir's world, people were not out on the streets. Also, I went back and edited the chapter a bit, in the sense that Noir's attacker was a huge man. I had previously forgotten to mention that. While the other Spider-Man's attacker was a thin man. I'm very sorry for the inconvenience.

 **I'm so glad that Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse has won the Golden Globe this year. It deserves it. The entire crew and all the people behind it did a pretty amazing job.**

 **Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, favorited and followed this story. You just make my day. This chapter is especially for you all...**

* * *

 **Chapter 3: Pairing Up**

 **Earth-8311**

The tip of his fingers felt like thick iron rods trying to drill into the sides of Peter Porker's skull. A screaming rage of pain seared through the entirety of his head as it tended to crush inward. The evil red of Morlun's eyes bore into his with such intensity that he was almost paralyzed upon seeing the inexplicable hunger in them. With the last of his struggling consciousness, Peter's fingertips, almost numb, poked into the edges of his trouser pocket and reached for the one hopeful solid thing that lurked inside. It was cold, but the touch felt heavenly.

With one swift movement of his hand, shutting his eyes in pain, in a way that had to be undetectable by Morlun's demonic eyes, Peter struck out as hard as he could with the iron hammer his hand had grasped. There was a jerk and Peter's head was free and he landed on the floor. His hammer had hit the man between the legs, and if that wasn't pain showing in his face, it _had_ to be surprise.

Catching his breath, his head feeling like having been hit by a truck, Peter tried to rush out of the dining hall, but he tripped and collapsed on the floor. His head was spinning. Then he heard the squish and tap of footsteps on Aunt May's polished floor.

The man quietly approached him, and for a moment, Peter was amazed at how calm he was. He reached down, and before Peter could budge, he picked him up and flung him across the room. Peter felt the wind knocked out of him as his back hit the wall. He tried standing up, and somehow, it asked for too much effort. Morlun lifted him again, dodging Peter's kicks with his other hand, and when Peter lashed out with his fists, Morlun threw him up, knocking him against the ceiling, and before he reached ground, the man jabbed him square in the jaw with the back of his hand and sent him flying out of the room.

He was playing with him.

In no time, Morlun picked him up again, and bringing his face close to Peter's head, he opened his mouth as if to bite. The fang-like teeth were all that Peter needed to pass out.

But then something strange happened.

In broad daylight, the room illuminated in a bright streak of light and as the streak got blindingly wider, what appeared to be dark blue boots walked out of it and into the room. Peter traced his sight all the way up to look at a fully suited, another human shaped figure, with dark blue all over and red at certain places. The figure wore a mask which seemed to have no eye-holes, but instead, had red highlights which were shaped as if to indicate the presence of eyes. A large red spider that looked eerily like a skull was painted on his chest. Red spikes projected from each arm.

Morlun stood there, looking foolish for a moment, and then, smiled. The figure looked at Peter and then back at Morlun, and the next thing Peter knew, the entire room went misty and he felt something grab him by the back, although this time more gently. There was a jolt and then he was outside his house, in his backyard. He landed on the patch of grass near the fence, and when he looked up, the blue figure was looking down at him.

Peter was having this feeling since he had seen him, but right now, it was as if his Spider Sense was alarmed all over again, kicking wilder this time, now that he was closer. It was a familiar feeling.

"You… you're like me!" he said to the figure.

The figure bent down to give him a helping hand, and Peter took it and helped himself up. "Yeah," the former said, "I know. You okay?"

"Define 'okay'," Peter replied.

"Lots of definitions," the figure said and turned back to look at Morlun walking out of the house towards them.

"He's not good news," Peter said.

"Yeah, I think I know that." He turned back and did an act of throwing something. A mini explosion sounded behind Peter and the fence broke apart.

" _What do you think you're doing_?" Peter cried.

"Clearing a way for us," the figure said as he grabbed Peter Porker again by the back and fled out to the street. Ahead of them a bright cloud appeared and he jumped right into it.

In the next moment, their surrounding had changed into something bizarre and the cloud disappeared. And so did Peter's entire neighbourhood along with Morlun.

The figure left Peter sick on the ground. "Wait," Peter called, "Who are you?"

"I'm not your enemy," the blue figure said, looming in over him.

"Yeah," Peter Porker gasped, "I figured that out."

The blue figure took off his mask, revealing a rugged-looking human face. "I'm Miguel," he said. "Spider-Man from the year 2099."

* * *

 **Earth-616**

Peter Parker let the cold water run down his face. He splashed again. He looked at himself in the mirror. Alright. Maybe he could do it. He would try.

He dabbed at his face with his handkerchief and walked out of the men's room. He wondered why was it that every time he felt nervous, he had this urge to empty his bladder. It totally ruined moments.

When he walked out, he found that MJ wasn't at the table. He looked around, and found her at the balcony, looking over the city's skyline. Her back was turned to him, and he took a moment to appreciate her back, her red hair, the same old red hair he used to daydream of the entire day when he was a kid.

She didn't look at him when he walked up to her. But she was well aware of his presence.

Peter leaned forward on the balustrade. There was a light wind blowing, and the smell of rain was all over the air. He looked up and saw the dark clouds hovering around the moon. "Like the view?" he asked her, looking straight ahead.

He waited for her to reply, but she didn't. He wanted to say something more, but waited. Maybe she would speak up. She must have been working something out in her head.

"I know what you wanted to say," she said slowly after a pause.

Peter exhaled. He clutched his hands together until his nails dug into his skin and he almost bled out. "Yeah." He cleared his throat. "I made it pretty clear, didn't I?"

No answer. _No, no, no_ _! Please don't do that..._ Peter closed his eyes. "Look, Mary-"

"Do you even know when you showed up at my doorstep that day, it was after how long?"

Peter turned to look at her and almost cried out: She had been staring at him with that intense gaze maybe the entire time, scanning him from head to toe, inside-out, like an ex-ray machine scanned luggage at the airport. He took in a deep breath. He could do this. But he avoided looking at her eyes. "A year," he said.

She shook her head as if he had said _two plus two equals twenty-two_. "Fourteen months, sixteen days," she said. "Eleven hours." Her voice quavered. "And you come up after all this time, you don't call, you don't text, and-"

"I _did_ call you-"

"But you ended it before I picked it up."

Peter sighed. "I just didn't…"

"What?"

He shrugged. "I thought you _wouldn't_ pick up."

He looked her in the eye and at once saw the pain that persisted in them. For a second he was back at Kingpin's penthouse, in Miles' dimension, two months ago, when he had stumbled upon MJ. The MJ of that world. She had reminded him of his own wife, a much younger version. But there was something else that he had felt when he saw her. And that lingered on in his mind ever since. Even now. It was the same pain in her eyes. The same pain his own wife (ex-wife) suffered: His absence.

It was like a hammer striking a bell that it came crashing on him that MJ would always love him, and that the MJ of that universe _did_ love him to the end, and after he was gone, it must have been terrible for her.

The guilt that had played in his mind was unendurable. That Peter was gone, he could never come back, but he was still alive, and his MJ deserved better.

"I wasn't _there_ for you when you needed me," he began, replaying the script he had written nights ago. It was simple. Pretend he was back at that night with the other MJ. Speak out his mind, just the way he had done then, forgetting she wasn't _his_ MJ. Pretty simple, right? He had even prepared similar lines as that night. So it was just a replay. All over. It _had_ to be. "I didn't even try."

MJ scowled. "You realize that now?" she said, unlike the other one, who had said: _That's fine._ But that was the thing. The other MJ had approached him asking for bread. His MJ had asked for children. And he had provided neither to neither.

"I know I can do _better_!" Peter said and sighed again. "Mary, if I _just_ had another chance to give you a _bread_."

" _Excuse_ me?"

Peter wanted to slap himself. "A _baby_ ," he corrected. He shook his head in his mind. Gosh, he sounded so lame! "If I just had another chance to give you what you deserve... I'm so sorry."

MJ nodded. She sniffed. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Peter, do you know how many 'another chances' I gave you? How many _last chances_ you played with? Took me for granted?" _?_

"One last chance, MJ, _please_!" Peter begged.

"Now I think I know why you had been telling me those stories of parallel dimensions and kids and-"

"That wasn't a story, it was real."

"Real or not, I figured out your motive."

Peter blinked. "My _motive_?"

MJ dismissed it with her hand. "Now I know why you told me about them."

"Why _did_ I tell you about them?"

MJ shrugged. She wiped tears with the back of her hand. "All leading to this night."

Peter shut his eyes. "I _told_ you about them because I wanted to share with you. We didn't have anything else to talk about… You wouldn't." Well, this wasn't going as he had planned. Not a single bit.

"Where had you been all this time?" MJ asked.

"What?"

"Tell me, where were you when I _needed_ you? You were away. You never made it home in time. Some or the other excuse. _Always_. And then? You never trusted me!"

Peter flinched. "I _did_ trust you, MJ."

She sighed. "No. You _never_ trusted me. 'MJ, don't do this', 'MJ, don't do that.' And what were you doing on your own, huh? You ever thought how I felt when you kissed _another_ woman before the _entire_ city? Before _me_? _Your_ wife, among the crowd, looking at her husband, her _best_ friend, her _soulmate_ , you, the one who promised to be with her no matter what, no matter where, no matter _how_? I watched, among the crowd, like an onlooker. I could do nothing except close my eyes. And yet, I didn't say anything. Because I knew people loved you. The city loved you, and you did that because they asked. But then there you were, doing whatever you liked, and at home, 'MJ, who was that man you were talking to?'"

Peter shut his eyes. He could not bear to look at her like that. That, and the fact that these were all terrible memories she was bringing back.

MJ smirked. "You remember you came up to me one day, and asked me if I was falling for that man who lived next door, just because he helped fix the TV when you were away?" She raised her eyebrows in question. "Where were you then?"

Peter swallowed. "I… I…"

"Busy Spider-Man- _ing_ , right? That same reason. You know why the cops hated you? It's because you wouldn't even let them catch burglars. Goblins and Sandmen were fine. But…" She broke into mad laughter. "It was a _mania_."

"Mary-"

"No, today _I_ speak," she cut in, sticking out her finger. "What happened to you, Peter? What came over you? Don't give me that _shit_ about-" she wiped her eyes again with the back of her hand, "- _People change with time_. You called yourself selfless, but you know what? You were the _biggest_ selfish person I'd met. Always, _always_ , everything _your_ way." She was crying now.

"MJ..."

"I spent countless nights, all awake, _without_ you. Fearing that you might never show up. While you were having pizzas with the Avengers. And still how _foolish_ of me to have still loved you. After _everything_!" She stared him in the eye. "I asked for children. I wanted to extend our family. I was _so_ afraid of losing you. I wanted what every married girl wants, and what do you say? We can't manage children. Well, of course you can't! How can you? How _could_ you?" She shook her head violently. "But I'm not like you. I was never like you. I might not have been as humble or straightforward or gentle as you, but I had been wrong. You were _nothing_ but a selfish person, _only_ caring about yourself."

She sobbed. God, he _hated_ making her cry. He reached out with his hand to wipe her tears away. "Honey-"

She stopped his hand. "Don't _honey_ me, okay?" She sniffed and turned around. "I'm sorry Peter. Sorry for ruining your night."

"Mary, I _need_ to clear things out. _Please_!"

She shook her head. "I need some space. Good night Peter. Don't come after me."

And with that, she was gone.

Peter turned to look at the people in the restaurant, all heads turned to him, their eyes sympathetic.

He rested against the balustrade. The clouds overhead had cleared. The smell of rain was gone.

Peter B. Parker stood out there all alone, under the night sky, his face as sad as the moon hung overhead.

* * *

 **Earth-65**

Despite all, Miles Morales couldn't believe himself. It had only been five days since he was last here, and the fact that he would be seeing Gwen again so soon felt unreal. Just a few minutes back, he was at his dorm with Ganke, awake the entire night searching for a Gwen Stacy in his world. The night had slipped by their hands quickly, and he had found himself in his bed, trying _not_ to doze off since there was only an hour left for the first class of the day.

And now here he was, sitting on Gwen's bed, his back resting on the wall, while she paced the room from one corner to the other. There was some kind of tension buzzing about her, about to explode, but she kept to herself. And so Miles waited patiently for her to speak up, his patience running out uneasily in the silence.

His eyes trailed along with her, moving from one side of the room to the other. Right now she was dressed in tight jeans, a black shirt underneath a fluffy white parka. She was barefoot. For once, his eyes turned to her feet. She had long, elegant toes, her nails polished with a dark shade of gray. They looked delicate, but Miles knew they were trained to take on her entire body weight. Smooth and soft heels padded gently on the cold floor as she walked around silently, and Miles was tempted to give out his hand so she could walk on those, and not feel the coldness of the marble beneath.

His eyes traveled all the way up to her face. She bit her lips as she paced the room. Her hair was almost back to normal now. Blond hair that reached just up to her jaw. Her eyes were closed most of the time, and it looked like she had exactly memorized how many strides she needed to cover the room, and exactly how wide each stride should be.

It was only when she walked past her study did his gaze remain on the spot and saw the flower vase. It shone and looked new. The price tag was still attached. Inside it were sunflowers which could have been the ones he had presented her.

It was time to break the awkward silence. "You've kept the flowers," he tried. And it worked. Gwen stopped walking, opened her eyes and stopped biting her lips. "That's a vase, right?"

"Yeah, I've kept them," she said absentmindedly. "They're nice. Yeah, it's a vase."

Miles smiled. "Thanks."

Gwen jerked. It was as if she had just woken up from hypnosis. "Listen," she said, "You promised me you would pay me back for the flowers, right?"

Miles' hands immediately went for his back pocket. "Yeah. But right now I don't have my wallet."

Gwen waved her hand in dismissal. "I don't want money, Miles. I _need_ your help. Please?"

Miles blinked. Anything for her. "Okay."

Her face lit up. "Great."

"But, what is it?"

She shuffled her feet. She resumed her pacing. "My school's celebrating twenty-five years tonight. There's this _weird_ agenda and they've turned it into something like a prom night and there is this dance where you need a partner." She looked up at him timidly. "Can you… _be_ that for me?"

* * *

 **Meanwhile in Nueva York…**

"Great," Ham remarked, looking away from the screens. "So now there's a vampire after us. _And_ he can travel dimensions."

Miguel looked sideways at him. "They're not exactly vampires. They're worse."

Ham nodded. "In the sense that he sucks the life force out of you, and spiders are his favorites. Maybe this Morlun was the one behind the missing spiders back in my world. He must have eaten them up." He shuddered. Miguel figured that this was somehow too personal for him, considering the fact that Ham had once been a spider himself.

"We don't know for sure," he said, "All the time I've seen them, I haven't found them take anything but coffee and… the spider people. _Totems_ , they call us."

Ham turned to Miguel. " _Them_. You've been saying _them_ and _they_. There's more than one?"

Miguel took in a deep breath. He wasn't usually a vendor of bad news, but sometimes they just came up, and it was important that he let the concerned people know. "Yes," he said after a pause. He typed into the keyboard. "There's another, but I hardly believe it's the end. There might be even more, and my gut says just that." He motioned at Ham towards the screen with his chin. "See. See for yourself."

The screen went dark for a second, and then it showed a street in black and white, as if the camera that had taken the footage didn't support colors. Beside him, he heard Ham hold his breath and grip the edges of his seat. The screen showed a car pass by. A few seconds later, a figure in a trench coat crashed to the ground. Ham gasped. The sight that showed what happened next was terrifying. Or rather, the sight that showed who _appeared_ next was terrifying. A monster of a man, nearly ten feet tall, picked up the Spider-Man, and for a second, the man resembled Morlun. The similarities were eerie, something which could only represent siblings. The screen showed the man strangle Spider-Man and then walk away into thin air, the latter still in his hand.

The screen went dark again.

Miguel quietly turned in his chair to look at Ham, who was at the brink of tears. "Porker," he said slowly, "We still don't know if he's dead or not." Miguel hated to instill false hopes, but right now, Ham needed it. Without it, he could collapse on the seat that engulfed him.

"Do you really think so?" Ham asked, wiping away tears. His voice was shaky. "When do they ever leave people like us? They always want us dead, Miguel. Always."

Miguel was struck by the fact that right now, there was nothing he could say. "I…I… Let's not… lose hope."

"Can you show me what happened to him?" Ham asked. "Where the man took him?"

Miguel shook his head. "Believe me, that's the one thing I've been trying to do for the last few days. I… I simply can't. There are infinite universes out there, and who knows where he has taken him. But believe me, that's what I've been trying to do." He knew what he had said wouldn't be of any help.

Somewhere behind them, muffled, came the sound of something hitting the ground. And then, as if some glass shattered. Broken into tiny pieces. The sound echoed, and for Miguel's enhanced hearing, it was as if it had happened right next to him. Peter Porker jumped in his chair. And then they heard the loud complains of a grown man behind them.

Miguel sighed. "For _Lyla's_ sake!"

"Did you actually take my name?" Lyla's voice interrupted.

"Who is she?" Ham asked, totally puzzled.

"She's Lyla, Ham. My holographic-"

"His holographic assistant," Lyla finished for Miguel and her form appeared before Ham. "It's very good to see you in person, Spider-Ham. I'd been really looking forward to it, but you _do_ seem a little too small for your size."

Ham blinked. "Uh… thanks?"

"Ignore her," Miguel said, standing up. "She really has some weird sense of humor installed into her which I at times really wish hadn't been done so."

"He's broken the tap, Miguel," Lyla said. "And the mirror."

Right then, the door at the far corner swung open and light spilled into the dark hall. A figure stood there for a second, and then stomped in. He had something shiny clutched in his left hand. He walked up to Miguel and held the piece of shiny metal before him.

"Congratulations buddy," Miguel muttered, "You've broken it."

The man looked from Miguel to the thing in his hand and then at Ham. He pointed his finger at Ham, and asked him, " _Who the heck are you_?"

"Ham," Miguel said, "This is the Spider-Man of 1967, and _don't_ mind his finger, he likes to point."

"This is an _astonishing_ peculiarity," Spider-Man wondered aloud, "A pig dressed as Spider-Man. Weird."

"You're a peculiarity too," Miguel said. "You broke my tap."

Spider-Man turned to him. "I didn't break it. It broke on its own! The thing doesn't even _draw_ water, and you call it a tap?"

"It's a smart tap, you dumb ass! It's automatic. You don't have smart taps and toilets in _your_ world? Smart bathrooms? Smart showers?"

Spider-Man chuckled. "Only a fool like you can call a toilet _smart_."

"Alright, whatever!" Ham said as he hopped down his chair and walked up to Spider-Man, extending his hand. "My name is Peter Porker."

Spider-Man stared down at the pig before him. He didn't take his hand. "A pig which can speak. You've got my name, and you have four fingers."

Ham scowled. "We pigs have four fingers. What do you think? At least take my hand. It's dry this-" Ham couldn't finish his last statement. All of a sudden, he performed a weird dance on the spot where he was standing, and his body flashed a multiple of colors. He fell to his knees.

Spider-Man bent down to help him up. "What's wrong, talking pig?"

"That's it!" Miguel jumped. "I was having a feeling I was forgetting something. _Now_ I remember!" He turned to Spider-Man, "He just glitched. That's what happens when you take that device off your wrist when you're not in your own dimension." He tapped at the dial of the gizmo strapped to Spider-Man's left wrist. "Because you don't belong here. And I do hope now that you've seen it, you stop biting around in my head to remove it. If you're so desperate, take it out, and I'll be happy to see you disappear into thin air."

Spider-Man dropped the broken tap on the floor. He poked Miguel in the ribs. " _You're_ the one who brought me here in the first place."

Miguel turned around. "Yeah, and your _damn_ welcome." He turned to Ham. "You follow me."

He led the way out, followed by Ham and behind him, Spider-Man 67. They walked along a dimly-lit corridor, and into a huge, circular lab full of machines and computers from floor to ceiling. Spider-Man 67 shivered. The room was air-conditioned.

Lyla appeared before them. "Miguel," she said. "The gizmos are far better working now. Efficiency increased to seventy-three percent."

"I told you she's smart, didn't I?" Miguel said.

" _Excuse me_ ," Lyla said, "It was _my_ idea."

"No it wasn't."

"Yes it was."

Ham cleared his throat. "But, who's _she_?"

"Me." A young female voice spoke from behind them, and everyone turned around.

Ham's eyes went wide with disbelief. On who's right mind would anybody think that somebody like _her_ would end up here? "Peni!"

* * *

 **Elsewhere...**

He waited for his brother under the bridge. He had promised a time, and it was already a quarter of an hour past. He still hadn't shown up. Normally, he would have started to think that maybe their hatred towards each other had grown so much over the years that his brother could do anything to make him look like a fool. But today was different. Today his brother had failed, and it was a first time in many years. Yes. Their father would be disappointed. Maybe he would consider to reconsider...

"It surprises me how much patient you have grown," a voice startled him from behind. His brother's.

He turned around. He wanted to smile. In fact, he _was_ smiling from within, but all he put in display was a cold expression. Emotions were something he had learned never to try with. For a moment they looked at each other without a single sound. Then he spoke. "Did you bring your share of meat home?"

His brother shook his head. "He escaped," he said. It was amazing there was not a single hint of defeat in his voice. It was just a fact out of his tongue. "It appears they too can move around now."

He didn't nod. Usually he would have. He decided to keep his story unspoken.

"I know you've got something to say as well Daemos," his brother said.

Daemos shook his head. "I don't," he lied.

His brother smirked. "I heard you were headed for the black-and-white one. Tell me. Was he any good?"

Daemos shrugged. "So so."

"So did you turn the toilet black and white the next day?"

Daemos looked at his brother contemptuously. "No," he lied. "You know I don't joke around like that, Morlun."

Morlun chortled. He didn't say anything again. He simply walked away.

"Where are you going?" Daemos asked.

"Ever been hungry, Daemos?"

* * *

 **Earth-65**

The silence as of yet, although uncomfortable, still had kept his nerves calm and steady. But right now, Miles' insides were jumping. It was as if every organ in him had been displaced.

"But… I don't _know_ how to dance!" he said.

"That doesn't matter," Gwen said, "It's not a ballet or a break dance or of any sort. No choreography. It's just simple steps, and I can teach you in two minutes."

Miles hesitated. Uncertainty spilled into his mind. He couldn't just say _no_ and he couldn't say _yes_ too. "What if… what if I step on you? What if I embarrass you? Before everyone? Because… because dancing is _really_ not my thing. I don't know anything beside moving my head and swaying my hands from side to side."

Gwen laughed. "It'll be easier than moving your head and swaying your hands. Trust me." She gave out her hand. "And you'll not be stepping on me, and you won't be embarrassing me. Don't worry. You'll do great." Miles looked up nervously at her. "Trust me Miles," Gwen reassured. "I really need you right now, because if it's not you, I don't know who I'm gonna end up with. Because I'm sure it'll be somebody. And I don't want anybody else."

This was huge. Dancing with her in his dreams was easy, like climbing a two-step ladder, but now that this was real, it actually seemed like a whole mountain before him. It wasn't going to be easy, no matter how simple she promised it would be.

He took her hand. It was a totally different feel altogether. It was soft, yet it felt firm. If he pressed a little, he could feel her bones. Her fingers were long and beautifully shaped, her nails polished the same shade of gray as her toes.

He stood up, his grip firm on hers. His legs felt a little wobbly, and his heart was hammering fast. He felt light-headed and as if the floor had disappeared underneath him.

She was looking down, and he took the opportunity to steal a glance at her face. Beautiful. Why was she so _achingly_ beautiful? Her hair was the perfect shade of blond he had ever seen. He caught her scent. He couldn't place it, but it was amazing, something more than what "beautiful" could describe. His insides crawled.

"It'll be over in a jiffy," she promised. Then she looked up at him and smiled. Somehow that made it worse. Strands of hair hid some of her face and boy did she look stunning! Her blue eyes were an ocean of fine cozy water calling out to him, luring him to take a dive, and he knew somewhere in his mind he couldn't do that. It would be too soon. Heck, he didn't even know if the moment would ever come. For all he knew, he hadn't done something great to win over her as more than a friend. Right now he wanted to flee, go away from civilians and scream his lungs out until he was left exhausted. He wanted to punch something really hard, hard enough to break a wall or a pillar. He wanted to flail his hands and legs until they ached and make a butterfly in the snow and be buried inside. Because he knew that he wasn't getting past holding her hand, and all his thoughts were like a rock tied down to his chest, pulling him down. Looking at her was equally difficult, because he was having this feeling of pulling her to a hug or kissing her. His hands were itching. They felt like the pincers of a crab. Trying to grasp at things, but catching only thin air. He was afraid he would lose control. With sheer willpower he kept himself in place.

He started when something soft and firm crawled around the fingers of his other hand, and when he looked down, Gwen was squeezing it. The rest of his body was already dead. He felt like he was dropping down from a thousand feet, just like a plane on descent.

"We do like this," she was saying. She brought their hands up before them. Miles felt the warmth in hers. They were neither cold, nor too hot, but a little warm. The base of her palms felt like hard cushions against his. They were the most perfect feeling he had ever felt.

"Okay," she said, and made a right-angle with his left hand, holding it with her right. "When I do this, you step left, and I step to my right. Do it." Miles obliged. "Perfect. Take another step to your left. Good. Now step back to your right, and I'll step back to my left. Not a very wide step. Good. Once again, back to position one. Again, back to your left. Yes, one more and then back again. Easy right?" Her voice was so gentle...

"Yeah." The reply from Miles was very feeble.

They continued in the same rhythm for the next half minute. "Two steps to the left, and then two back to the right. Two steps to the left, and then back to the right. Back two steps. Very good. You're doing great." She turned her head up to look at him. "You've grown taller."

"Yeah I guess," Miles said, uneasily, "It's a puberty thing, you know?"

Gwen shook her head. She chuckled. "Nice."

Miles looked down at her feet. He wanted to take off his shoes and socks and ask her to step on him.

He wondered if he could let go of Gwen's other hand and slip his hand right under her arm and around her back. He wanted to feel her. Feel the side of her body. Feel her back. Latch himself onto her. _Crazy_.

"Alright," Gwen said, bringing him back to reality. "Your other hand, the right one, it's actually not the way we do it." She let go of his hand, and raised hers. "Slip your hand under my armpit and round the side, and…" She paused. Miles couldn't believe this was happening. "Wait." Gwen said, "Wait, just a second. Let me take my jacket off. It's coming in the way." She shook out of her parka and threw it on her bed. "Well, what are you waiting for?" she asked. "Your right arm, as I told you." Miles followed slowly, his hands shaking. He slipped his hand under her arm so that it was wrapped around her side. She rested hers on his.

No. This wasn't even real. This was a hoax. This was just a dream. He would soon wake up in his bed and be rushing for his early morning class. He would skip breakfast for the day. He wouldn't have the appetite. He would be left depressed after such an amazing dream and that it wasn't real. This was only a dream. Only dreams could be so sweet. Only dreams gave you exactly what you wanted.

Her lithe framework brushing against his jolted him awake and yet he was still dreaming. Miles wanted to squirm. He wanted to pull his knees closer to him and wrap his hands around them. Bury his head in between. Controlling the adrenaline flow was hard, and with Gwen Stacy, it was next to impossible.

Miles gulped. Any moment now, his hand would drop off. His skin felt like it had lost sensation. He had never held a girl like this before. Heck, he had never _touched_ a girl before her. The feeling was… _undefined_. He wanted to bring up his other hand and pull her tight next to him. She was so thin. Hold her waist. That was a brilliant waist.

His hands felt like tweezers…

* * *

 **Nueva York**

The girl's hands were tightly wrapped around him when he embraced her. He didn't stand taller than her, but she had grown in the last two months. But the things she must have witnessed that brought her here must have left her terrified. The gravity in her eyes was unusual and the way she carried herself around was far, far beyond how anybody her age was meant to. Maybe she was a little girl from the outside, but fate had long before stolen away her childhood.

"Peni, everything's going to be alright," Ham said, pulling back. The girl was rigid, but she was shaken from within. For a moment, strangely, he felt protective towards her, like a father does for his child, and the potential fact that Noir was gone left an empty vessel in him.

She must have been thinking the same. "He's gone, Ham. He's gone."

He wiped the tears from her eyes. "No Penny, he's not. He's not like that. He'll fight. He'll fight to the end, with what he's got." He hated instilling false hopes. It was more like a lie, anyway. But she needed it. Without it, Ham didn't want to ponder what she would be going through. "And what he's got is more than enough. We both know that." She wiped her eyes fiercely with the back of her hand. He stopped her. "Don't do it like that, girl, you'll hurt yourself." He looked at her gently. "They were after you too?"

"That big man was." Her voice cracked. "The one who took _him_ away."

Ham shook his head. "You're safe now."

"Not for long," Miguel interrupted. "They can show up any time. Here. Alone, or together. We need to keep moving."

"But we can't just keep running," Ham said, "Hiding."

Miguel shook his head. "Who said we're gonna hide?"

"So you plan to fight them now?" Spider-Man 67 asked. "You won't even stand a chance."

Miguel shook his head. "No. I will. I will survive all of them, and I'll stop all of them."

"You sure you can do that without us?" It was Peni who spoke, which surprised everyone. "You're not going out there alone."

"There's strength in numbers," Lyla added.

"You sure about what you just said?" Ham whispered in Peni's ears. She nodded. Ham turned to Miguel. "Then maybe we should all accompany you. I have another hammer in my bag."

Miguel shook his head again. "You all can get killed."

"And what, you won't?" Ham countered.

"Even if I do," Miguel answered back, "It'll only be me. So I'm going alone."

"Listen, future man," Spider-Man 67 pointed at him, "You don't get to decide who stays and who dies. We're as much strong as you. Even if _they're_ not going," he said, turning his finger at Ham and Penny, "I am. Not because I don't want you to die, but because it's the right thing to do. After all, we're all Spider-Man."

Miguel sighed. "Really?" Everybody nodded. "Lyla, why are _you_ nodding?"

Lyla shrugged. "I wanna help too."

Miguel took in a deep breath. He looked at his wrist. "I hope you have your suits with you. We need to get going, in fact, right now."

"Where?" Peni asked.

"Earth-1048," Lyla answered.

* * *

 **Earth-65**

Over the next few minutes Gwen helped Miles perfect his steps. "You're moving your legs too stiff," she said, "Ease down a bit. Get free."

His heart beating like a machine gun, Miles felt light-headed. Each time he stepped sideways, he gained an inch on her. Her perfume was intoxicating. Maybe it wasn't perfume at all. Maybe it was her natural scent. Whatever it was, he was tempted to sniff at the side of her neck and rest his head on her shoulder. Tickle her, maybe. Make her laugh. He would do anything to make her laugh. Her shirt was broad-necked, and he couldn't help but stare at her collar bones.

"Your hands are sweaty," she said. "Why are you so tensed?"

 _Because of you. I'm dancing with you. This is so unreal. You are so pretty._

"Take it easy, Miles. You're doing this with me. With a professional,"

"I never danced with a girl before," Miles managed to say.

"Then _hurray_! I'm your first!" She smiled at him.

"I… I want you to be the last too," Miles said almost immediately, losing command over his speech. Heat built up in his ears and cheeks, and he was certain he was looking very dumb before her. Looking weird. He felt self-conscious. His hair was combed the wrong way. He hadn't brushed his teeth.

Gwen chuckled and looked down, and for a moment, Miles detected the slightest trace of timidity in her features. Had _he_ done that?

But then there it was. She too was red all over her face, although she was _much_ better at hiding it. In his mind he leaped high into the air, fist bumping nobody in particular. _Score! Goal!_ Whatever.

"Thanks Miles," she said, staring down.

"For what?"

"For everything. You've missed an _entire_ day of school for me. Just, what can I do about it?"

And for a moment he was tempted to tell her. He wanted to tell her how good she looked. How important she was to him. How vital a role she played in his life. He wanted to let it out. Let it all out. Express how much he loved her, and what he could do to win over her.

So that was it. He got it now. He let it sink in. He had been trying to suppress the feeling, but he always knew he loved her. As bright and clear as daylight. It grew over the days, and in the last two months, it was brimming over the edge, threatening to flow out. His insides used to hurt. He thought of her so much that he saw her everywhere. He heard her everywhere. He wanted to tell her. In fact, it was a matter of debate.

 _I'll tell her._

 _No. I won't._

 _No, I'll tell her. I wanna tell her._

 _No! You can't!_

"Tell me when you need me, and I'll be there for you," Gwen said. She pulled his hand towards her.

 _Please. Please. I need to tell her. I'm dying. Please. I'll tell her…_

 _No. I won't tell her._

 _I'll tell her._

 _No, I won't… are you kidding me? Who are you going to tell? What are you going to tell? She might not even feel the same as you._

 _But I made her blush!_

 _Stop imagining man! You made her blush, so what? Anyone can make anybody blush._

 _But I wanted to tell her._

 _If you tell her, she'll probably hate you. She might even "un-friend" you. You won't tell her._

"You're a quick learner, Miles."

 _I'll tell her._

 _No you won't._

 _I will. In fact I'm about to tell her right now._

 _Don't!_

 _Yes!_

 _Don't!_

 _I'm telling her!_

 _No don't te-_

"Gwen?"

She must have been in some kind of blissful thought. Her eyes were closed. But now they snapped open. "Yeah?"

"I…I…" Miles gulped. Sweat trickled down the side of his face. "You look nice."

Gwen's face was surprised. But she managed a grin. "Thanks Miles!" The way she said it made his heart double over. Inside he was fighting himself to _not_ collapse. "But do you know what we are lacking?" Gwen asked.

Miles thought for a second. A huge hall with a crowd and disco lights running around flashed in his mind. "An audience?" he guessed. And then he was already on the dais with her, dancing to some kind of a music. There were people surrounding them. On one side, people were praising and applauding at them, and on the other side, they were sniggering and laughing and pointing at him. Mocking at him.

"No," Gwen said. "Music. We are lacking some music."

"Oh." Miles exhaled. He breathed in again, and exhaled again. He had to calm his nerves. He heard Peter's voice in his head. _What do you do to relax?_ He cleared his head. He cleared his throat.

" _Needless to say I keep it in check_ ," he began singing.

"What?"

Miles shrugged, still stepping along with her. " _She was all bad-bad, nevertheless_ …" He had the lyrics memorized now.

Gwen raised her eyebrows. "Okay."

" _Callin' it quits now baby I'm a wreck_ … _Crash at my place baby you're a wreck!_ "

"Am I?"

Miles held up his hands. "Come on! It's just a song. You said we were lacking music."

Gwen smiled and shook her head. "Oh boy. Okay."

Miles took her hand gently and they resumed their ballroom dancing once again.

" _Needless to say I'm uh-uh check_ …"

"Uh-huh," Gwen said, raising her finger. Miles blushed.

" _She was all bad-bad, nevertheless_ …"

And then there he was, back in his world, back in the hall. It didn't matter if people were laughing at him or praising him. He only looked at Gwen now. She was the one that mattered the most. On the stage his new favorite singer was singing his new favorite song and he sang along. Gwen was looking so good, dancing. They danced along to the music and then she performed a dip. A classic move. She felt so delicate in his hands. It was amazing to think that she must have fought hundreds of her foes with this very body. When she would perform another dip he would bring his face closer to her.

He could collapse on her.

" _Looking at you sideways, party on tilt_ …" Another dip. He leaned forward towards her face.

"Miles!"

And now he snapped back into reality, with Gwen tilted, leaning backward on his arm, his face inches from hers. They stared at each other. He must have been looking so stupid. Foolish.

"Miles, we'll fall down like this."

" _Ooh-ooh_ …" he decided to continue, straightening up. Continuing was the best way to save himself from the embarrassment… " _Some things you just can't refuse_ … _She wanna ride me like a cruise_ …"

"Hmm… I _can_ swing around though…"

" _And I'm not tryna lose_ …"

Gwen laughed. She poked him in the tip of his nose. "What do you think you'll lose?"

 _You._ "I don't know."

"Is this your favorite song?"

" _Then you're left in the dust_ ," Miles continued, nodding, " _Unless I stuck by you_ …"

"I'll stick by you!"

" _You're the sunflower_ …"

"Ohh! I get it now! Sunflowers are your favorite."

"You're a pretty good commentator, you know, Gwen?"

She chuckled.

Miles imagined a sunflower, the stem stuck in between his lips, like the way they showed in the old movies. Huh. He wondered if the Black-and-White Spider-Man did that to _his_ Mary Jane, provided he had one.

Miles would lean down and Gwen would take it, biting the lower part of the stem with _her_ lips.

" _I think your_ …" No. He stopped. He couldn't sing the rest. She could get a hint why he liked this song so much now.

He wouldn't sing the rest.

"Yeah I'm what?"

Miles shook his head. "Nothing." The heat in his face was toasting him.

"Come on! Sing!"

"I… I forgot the line."

Gwen scowled. "No you didn't. Sing it."

Miles blushed even more. He could not. "Forget it. Another song."

"No," Gwen slapped him on the shoulder. "Sing it! Finish it!"

"No."

"Please."

" _So_ sorry!"

"Please? _Please_?"

Miles wished she hadn't done that. "Alright."

"Here we go!" Gwen squeezed his hands. He wished she didn't do that, but again he was glad she did.

" _Then you're left in the dust_ … _unless I stuck by ya_ … _you're a sunflower_ … and… and…" Gwen raised her eyebrows. " _I think your love would be too much!_ " Miles closed his eyes and let it out.

" _Okay_ ," Gwen made a mischievous face and teased. "So _that's_ what you wanted to say!"

Miles turned white in the face. _There you go. She hates you now._ "It's just a song," he whispered.

"I know," Gwen said. "Don't be so _shy-shy_."

"I thought you'd-" Something in him felt funny, and then, it was as if a thousand volt of electricity had just zapped through him. He shook where he stood, and then he lost control and stepped on Gwen accidentally and the next thing he knew, they both tripped. He felt the earth close in on him and then the sound of them hitting the floor. He put his hands around Gwen's head to prevent it from hitting the marble. He landed on top of her.

"Miles," she said, "Are you okay?"

Miles shook his head. "I think I just venom-striked myself."

"No," Gwen blinked, "You glitched. How stupid of me! I forgot about that."

"Ow. My body feels like I've just been car-washed."

She giggled. "You've gained a few pounds."

"Yeah, maybe."

"Is it a perk of puberty?"

Miles grinned. "I… guess?" _Wow._ _Did she just wink at me?_

"Hah." She closed her eyes.

She felt so nimble underneath. His face was perhaps just an inch from hers. Her lips were parted a little. It was just so tempting. Inside, he fought for control. No. He couldn't do anything stupid. He sighed. He was so close, and yet so far. It sucked.

"You okay?" he asked her.

"Yeah. You've gained a few pounds."

Miles shrugged on top of her. "Maybe. I eat a lot these days."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Last Sunday we went out for a family dinner. Ganke was there."

"Wow nice."

"I ate till I was full."

"Good."

"But Ganke ate more than I did."

Gwen raised an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay? Why does it seem you're having a lot of effort talking? Is my mouth smelling bad?"

"You've grown heavier than before…"

"Yeah, maybe. Dad says the car tire had burst out." Then Miles realized. "Oh!" He rolled off her and next to her on the floor. Then he stood and helped her up. "I'm _so_ sorry! Was I too heavy?"

"More than last time, maybe." She fished out her cellphone and looked at the screen. "It's time I got you home. You can't stay here."

Miles blinked, confused. "But why?"

"You'll glitch again."

She was heading towards her study when Miles caught her by the wrist behind her and stopped her. "No," he said. "I'll stay."

She shook her head. "You'll glitch again. You can't stay here longer."

"No. I can. If you could in my world, for days, then why can't I for just a few hours?"

"Because… because…"

Miles leaned in towards her. "Because why?"

Gwen sighed. There was an awkward silence for what seemed to be eternity.

"You sure about this?" she asked after a pause.

Miles nodded. "I'm staying."

"Okay," she said and hurried over to her wardrobe and took out a suit. "I managed to get these then. They should fit you. Put them on." She threw it at him. He caught it.

As he was removing the coat hanger, his eyes fell on a bouquet of red roses on Gwen's couch. He picked it up. The roses were fresh. They were wrapped carefully with aluminium foil. A pink ribbon was tied around it, and next to it, a piece of paper had been attached. There was something scrawled on it in red:

 _For Gwen…_

 _-Harry_

Miles turned back to Gwen, who was putting on her shoes. "Gwen?"

She looked up at him, and when she did, Miles noticed an immediate change of expression in her face: from neutral to caution. "Yeah?"

Miles looked from the roses to her, and back to the roses. "Who's Harry?"

She looked away from him. "Doesn't matter," she said. She stood up and checked herself on the full-length mirror attached to her wardrobe door. "Let's get going," she said firmly.

"Yeah, sure," Miles said, a thousand questions buzzing in his head.

* * *

 **Thank you MarvelousManiac, Martial Arts Master, Wlyman2009, BigbyWolf, Throwing the Shade, K2-Black-Panther, Who Am I, DSMALLONE666, Cunk Toad, Kekepikapika, KillerQueen312, Indigene Syke, ArtOfBreaking429, Jeb Stacy for your reviews.**

 **I've replied to all of you, but have not been able to, to the readers who are not holding an account.**

 **To K2-Black-Panther: Thanks a lot. Well, the Spider Gang will surely be happy to be reunited. Let's see where and how their party and celebration goes.**

 **To Who Am I: I'm glad you are liking it. Thanks. **

**I know I've been unable to stick to the time limit I had earlier said. It appears life simply won't allow like that. On top of that, I was sick for some time. Really. Also, this chapter seemed to have been never ending. It's twice the length of the previous chapters. But anyway, here it was, and I hope you liked it. Thank you all for being so patient!**

 **Don't forget to leave back your honest reviews. Just, make my day again, please? Next chapter (I'm telling it now) might take some time. It's gonna be long too. But it will come. That's a guarantee.**

 **Thank you all for being so patient. Be ready for exciting events next chapter. Be ready for Gwen and Miles' dance. And I hope you all know who is the Spider-Man of Earth-1048.**


	4. Beauty And Beasts

**Note:** I don't think in this site we can use the double-slash that is there in the name of Peni Parker's armor SPdr. It should actually be "S", "P", _double slash_ , "d", "r". I tried but at the end it only comes up with a single slash. So please excuse the single slash.

 **Spidey-Recap:**

 **In this long gap between the update, there's a lot of possibility that what has happened till now may have become a little blurred for the readers. So here is a brief summary/recap to brush up memory!:**

Up until now, it has been two months since the spiders from the various dimensions had stopped the super-collider and left for their respective universes, two months since Miles Morales took up the mantle of Spider-Man in his home universe. They have all returned to their normal lives. One night, Daemos attacks Spider-Man Noir and even though the latter tries his best to flee, he fails. In a future universe, Miguel O'Hara, a.k.a., Spider-Man 2099 builds a device to go dimension hopping, and realizing the threat posed to the spider people by the "vampires", he travels to Earth-8311 to rescue Spider-Ham from the hands of Morlun. He also has brought in Peni Parker from Earth-14512 and Spider-Man 67 from Earth-67. Meanwhile, Gwen Stacy, a.k.a., Spider-Woman of Earth-65 invites Miles to her world as she finds that she needs a dance partner to go to the celebration of her school's twenty-five years of establishment. Miles, who doesn't know how to dance, is taught a few basic steps by Gwen. As they sum up practice, Miles glitches, but says that if Gwen could live in his world for days, why couldn't he just stay for a few hours? Gwen gives him a suit and Miles finds a bouquet of roses gifted to Gwen by some "Harry". When he asks her who he is, she tells him that it's not important, and that they'd better get going.

* * *

 **Chapter 4: Beauty And Beasts**

 **Earth-1048**

" _Thank you Jared, I'll take it from here._

" _Good morning, and welcome, folks, to another round of J. Jonah Jameso… ahem…_ "

" _I told you, let me-_ "

" _Er… another round of Just The Facts, with J. Jonah Jameson, alerting you to every corner of the mishaps in this mess of a city that never sleeps._

" _Folks, I know, after everything, EVERYTHING, all that we desire is a little break from the weirdos that roam our streets as if it were only their PLAYING tracks. From ghost people to epidemics to octopuses to metallic cranium to singularities in the skies, all we need after those is just a good night, carefree sleep._

" _But NEVER! When the rogue, Hercules princess from Symkaria had last flown off, it had appeared that we might get what we deserve after all, even a little, for little time, but that's NEVER the case, especially when diving around the city is the_ inexplicable _PHENOMENON we all know as SPIDER-MAN!_

" _When his weird friends had left, it should have been "PARTY'S OVER", but reality is pretty hard, because it's actually "PARTY'S JUST BEGUN!". Yes, that's right, fine people, because just YESTERDAY we had seen another episode of the peculiarity that erupts from the residues of Spider-Man's presence._

" _THIRTY-FIVE, believe me, thirty-five people, thirty-five living and breathing people had disappeared from the Central Park just yesterday, out of the blue when Spider-Man had been sighted just ten minutes prior to that. And now, if you don't understand what I'm saying, here's a better sighting. This is especially an advice, or rather, a WARNING to all the concerned parents who love their kids._ Keep your kids away _from the streets for a while. Because, Spider-Man, just seems to be having fun PUSHING people off BUILDINGS and bridges these days, and to show off his heroics, he catches hold of them at the last second. And it's a no-brainer that THOSE missing people are in HIS hands. SHOW US YOUR TRUE SELF, YOU COWARD!_

" _Is THIS what you call a hero? YOU people just think that the newspapers MAKE things up, the Daily Bugle MAKES things up, and if that's true, which is NOT, then even THIS is TRUE: SPIDER-MAN is a MENACE, and all he does is creates trouble for this city SO THAT, HE COULD JUST GO AND SAVE HIS OWN VICTIMS, and all his crazy FOLLOWERS fall for his tricks. FALL FOR HIM!_

" _I don't know what's gotten into everyone's heads these days, but I simply don't get it, what's the thrill behind wearing the masked menace's masks and jumping off structures trying to be heroes, only to eventually crack open your nut shells and spill the cotton candies that's shrouded inside?_

" _Folks, I may sound harsh, but I'm only telling you all this because it's my job, and because I love you. I care about you, and that's why I've been in this business my entire life, trying to bring your senses back to the ground. We don't need masks to be heroes. Just do your jobs, let others do their jobs, help others IF NEEDED, and that's the kind of heroes that's safe. Not a clown who likes to go around changing costumes and doing moves off the sky scrapers. If you're so keen, then why don't you earn money for the gymnasts , SPIDER-MENACE, while they can seat with their families at home?_

" _And it's my sole request to you all, please stop trying to impersonate him, because the last thing we need is for New York to turn into a spider island. No. Thank. You._

" _With this I sign off, until next time, take care and be alert._

" _Jameson out._ "

"Jameson's here too?" Spider-Man 67 asked.

"Yeah" Spider-Ham said, "I think J.J.J.'s an integral part of Spider-Man. He's always been in supporting role for Spidey. Always!"

"That guy's insane," Miguel commented. "I can only wonder what's his blood pressure level."

They were standing atop a building in Earth-1048. Miguel checked the dial of his "watch", and tried searching for any news of vampires. It wasn't very difficult, though. Right at Times Square, the news was showing, _only_ at that place, there were literally tremors and stampede. Police cars were filing in and were only hurled aside. Two buildings collapsed.

This was pretty much what he had come here to find.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Spider-Man of Earth-67 playing with the dial on his wrist and talking to himself. Under the mask, Miguel rolled his eyes. _What an asshole._

* * *

 **Earth-65**

There was something "peculiar" with this universe. Outside, the evening sky was a shade of pink that blanketed over them. Everything, from man to house to birds to cars to streets, everything was always blurred and shimmering at the edges. Shimmering pink. The neon was the second in line that dominated the color pallet of this world. Right now, Gwen, who was seated beside him at the back of a taxi, en-route to her school, blurred out a little at the edges. She was looking outside at the rush of traffic and buildings which raced behind them, and in whatever light that spilled in through the transparent windows of the car, she looked wonderful. She was still wearing her white parka and the same black shirt underneath. On her lap was a puffed up backpack, her hands protectively resting on it. The backpack was the reason why they were not out in the air, swinging their way through the sky-scrapers, because it contained too many "tools" and Gwen was reluctant to change costume so often. For once. And Miles didn't mind.

He wanted to speak to her. Sit next to her. Cover up the distance between them in the seat. She was sitting at the right edge of her seat, and he to the extreme left, just behind the driver. Gwen had been quiet all along.

Miles wondered if it was because he had asked about "Harry", whoever he was. He _did_ notice some effect on her since then. He wanted to reach out to her. Talk to her. See her smile. But somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he should let her be by herself for some time, although he was desperate to know who Harry was. The thought had been biting him all throughout.

"Harry's just a guy at class," Gwen said, as if reading his thoughts. She had broken her gaze from the window and turned and looked him in the eye for quite a lengthy stretch of time, making him go uneasy. "He came to me today in the morning, asking me to dance with him, but I refused." And then, as if by magic, her lips curled up, to Miles' relief, in a slight, reassuring smile. "I only thought of you."

It was a huge relief to him and right now he was going through a mixture of emotions, confused to express which. He returned her smile feebly and nodded. She turned back outside.

The words were a miracle to Miles' ears. _I only thought of you_. He knew now that those words would play in his head for quite a few days. Did she imply something else too? Was there a second meaning hidden in those words? He wondered, but dismissed the thought. This was enough for today. At least, he didn't have to worry about Harry anymore. That seemed to have been a morbid thought. His hopes were back in full gear, tickling some bizarre possibilities into his mind.

The air in between them was electrified. He felt like he was being pulled towards her. It was as if any time now his hand would reach out for hers and squeeze her fingers. And he wanted that, but something in him was stopping him, saying this wasn't the right time. _To hell with that._ Miles crawled to the edge of his seat to the point that he was pushing against the door.

Outside, in the setting light of the setting sun, birds flew overhead. Cranes. He tried to concentrate outside, observe whatever his eyesight could fetch, enjoy the beauty of this world, but his eyes kept darting sideways back to Gwen, secretly. For a while, he was thankful that she was looking away so that she wouldn't be aware of him watching her.

At last he surrendered. He turned to her. He knew that when he would go back home, he would be restless. Sleepless. The way she looked right now, he could be awake forever. If he didn't say something today, if he didn't, he knew he was gonna regret it. Plus, a pretty girl like her, who knew when she would move on with someone else?

No. He _had_ to say something today. But, really? What was he gonna say? He could at the least drop off a hint about his feelings. Maybe work his way to his actual words later after that, depending on her reaction. But the thing that was biting him at the back of his head was, did she really reciprocate his feelings? A part of him was saying that she did, and another part said she didn't. He had to find out, and he had to find out soon. He had to say something.

"Your universe is nice." Miles never knew when the words escaped his mouth. At the front, the driver, an elderly man, grunted, and Gwen raised an eyebrow at Miles. She shook her head slightly, motioning at the driver with her eyes. Miles understood the message: _Say no more._

"I love sunsets," she said, pretending to sound casual. "And evenings are nice too. You know, it's the end of the day and people are headed home and it's such a nice sight."

Her eyes gleamed and they explained everything. They sparkled and reflected a lot of her thoughts, nostalgia chief among them.

His hand reached out and found hers. He was sure she could hear his heart beating like a drum inside him. He intertwined his fingers between hers. _This is very weird._

He didn't know how she would have reacted. Whether she would have pulled back her hand or let it stay. Because that was when the car stopped.

"We've arrived," the driver announced in a husky voice from the front. Miles immediately pulled his hand and searched for the door handle. He opened it and got out.

Before him stood proudly, on a vast stretch of trimmed grass, in brick red, Midtown High School.

Gwen paid the driver and stood next to him. "Welcome," she said, sighing. "To Midtown High."

"Yeah," Miles said, looking around. "It's the same school that Peter went to." Gwen looked at him with some hint of sympathy Miles couldn't place. "You know, like," Miles continued, "Since his death, a lot has been made public about him. Well, not everything, but the general. Like, which school he went to, who his parents were." He shrugged. "Even your school looks the same as it does in my world."

Gwen nodded, as if realization had just dawned on her. "Parallel universes," she winked at him. "Now come on."

Miles offered her his arm after a lot of mental debating, and she looked at him expressionless for sometime, clearly considering it. Thankfully, she took it. She linked her arm through his and they walked forward, approaching the group of girls that stood at the distance before the entrance, at the steps, a bright red head prominent among them.

* * *

 **Earth-1610**

May Parker slid the omelet onto the green glass plate with her fork. She lit off the stove and, plate in hand, she walked out of the kitchen.

It was a bright morning. Sunlight streamed in through the windows and cast its light onto the wooden, decorated door which she gave a gentle push. It swung open into a gap wide enough for her to pass through.

MJ was on the line.

"No I'll see you first, Peanut," she was saying. "I promise."

May put the plate beside her on the couch and sat down, grabbing the magazine from the small glass table. MJ touched the glass plate when she noticed it and made a protesting face. May shook her head and pointed at the omelet and then at her.

"What about today?" MJ was saying into the phone, "Relax Peanut. You're all getting out of breathe… Yeah, I missed you too. Yeah, Peter would have loved it."

May looked at her. Usually when any topic regarding Peter came up, the smile from MJ's face would disappear. But today it didn't. May smiled.

"He always dreamed of going to Europe… Yeah I think he went on missions… No, not with us family."

MJ looked at her. May raised her eyebrows.

"Yeah, I'll call you back… Yeah, you take some rest. Bye." She hung up.

"She's back?" May asked.

"Yeah," MJ said, "She arrived in the morning. Said she's hell tired. But had to call me first."

"Clearly, she's seeing home after what? Six months?"

"Seven months," MJ corrected her. "Three days and two hours. She's been counting all along."

May chuckled. "I'd be surprised if she didn't."

"Yeah, remember all that crazy stuff she used to do around?"

May shook her head. "I'll never forget my trips to the principal. Peter and she used to be a rogue duo."

"Yeah," MJ said nostalgically. "But I'll never forget her strange food choices, especially after… after-"

"Yeah," May said. "Peanut with this, with that."

MJ shrugged. "Hence the name." She looked down at the omelet. "You really shouldn't be doing this, you know? I mean, I could have done it my-"

"Mary," May said, sitting straight on the couch, "There's not many days left. Please, let me do at least whatever I can these days. Please."  
MJ smiled faintly. She took a bit out of the omelet with the fork and put it into her mouth. "I want to meet him. Before I go."

"Spider-Man?" May asked. It was really strange referring to him as 'Spider-Man'. After so long of Peter in the costume, and now that he wasn't around any more, it felt a bit awkward to call somebody else by that name. But Miles Morales _was_ Spider-Man, after all.

MJ nodded. "Yes."

May turned the page on the magazine. "Perhaps you will."

* * *

 **Earth-1048**

She lifted the car and tossed it, spinning it in the air, and at the pig. Spider-Ham twisted mid-air to avoid the collision, but her fist broke through the car, almost tearing it in half, and made contact with his head.

"There are too may of them," she said aloud, her foot swinging and kicking the remains of the car away. "More than we thought."

" _You_ , sister, _you_ ," the man behind her said and dived forward with his sword. " _You_ were the one who overestimated yourself, Bora."

Bora pretended she didn't hear him. She didn't like it when her brother called her "sister". "Bora" was fine. Because he only did it when he found faults in her, and she knew he always had a good time doing that. She looked at Miguel, her fury only reaching the brim. "Shut up Brix," she called to her brother, "You didn't say anything either."

"Doesn't prove the point," Brix said and stepped aside to let the broken door of the demolished police car fly past him just by mere inches. When the Spider-Man from 1967 flung the next one, he caught it, as if it were only a flying saucer, and using the momentum, with one foot rooted to the ground, he let the door spin him in a complete angle, and changing the course of the flying door, he maneuvered it towards its thrower. The door hit Spider-Man straight in the stomach, and he gasped as he was thrown back.

Bora wasn't liking it. It was supposed to be her who should have done that. That was _her_ move. Nevertheless, she hurried forward towards the future Spider-Man, striking at him with her daggers. She missed.

"You missed," Miguel said as he bent down and swiped his foot at her, throwing her off-balance.

"I didn't," Bora said and thrust her pointed dagger down at him as she stopped her fall. He rolled out of the way. " _Bluey_!" she screamed.

Miguel shot his webs at her face, trying to blind her. "The suit's black, by the way," Miguel muttered. "People always call it blue, but it's black. I colored it black." He lashed out at her but missed. Even though she was blinded, she sensed him at the right time and grasping his leg, she thrashed him to the ground, knocking his breathe out.

"Wrong choice," Bora said when something very hard hit her head at the side, almost shattering her skull.

"Get off lady!" squeaked a voice from behind.

Bora swore. She turned around to find the pig in the air before her, a large hammer already aimed at her. She dodged at the right moment, and it went forward and hit Miguel, fortunately, on the shoulder. He cried aloud.

Bora sniggered. "Pathetic." She took hold of the hammer by its neck and tossed it aside, the pig with it.

Brix caught him. "Painful little meat, aren't ya?" he said, grabbing him by the head.

Bora turned to the little girl at the distance, far away from the mess, watching all this with frightful eyes. She smiled and walked towards her.

For a moment Peni was back in her own dimension, alone, in the darkness, in a never ending maze of alleyways, a monster of a man on her tail, every second closing in on her, and with each shortened breath that she took, she could feel him pulling her life out of her. Her robot was too far to save her in time, and when she tripped, she turned around and closed her eyes. She knew she was doomed like the two men who had saved her earlier, in the same way as he had sucked their life out of them. He looked at her and smiled, licking his lips. He reached out for her.

A hand reached out for her, about to grab her, when Spider-Man 67 shoved the woman from behind. Bora swore, and turning around, caught his fist and twisted his arm. Spider-Man screamed out in pain.

Bora smiled at him. "You first," she said, and grabbing his head in her hands, pulled him towards her.

Today was the first time Spider-Man from Earth 67 had ever faced these vampire-like folks. Up until now, he had had very little idea of what he was dealing with. No practical knowledge. He was only told what he would be facing, and that, seemingly now, wasn't sufficient.

When the lady brought her face close to his, Spider-Man felt a sudden sense of fatigue. The world was spinning. The sounds and the noise were getting distant, echoing off his head. He felt more tired now. His vision was getting dark. He could feel heat building up on the top of his head, but the rest of his body was getting numb, albeit a little cold. The darkness in his vision was creeping in now. Breathing in was too much of an effort.

At last surrender swept in. He was almost oblivious. He wanted to sleep. He wondered, for a brief moment, if sleep could fulfill his tiredness. Somehow he doubted it.

Now Peni was back in Miguel's base. Right before her was a multitude of computer screens, showing footage of all her different counterparts across the multiverse, being slaughtered as if they were all just a sac of sweet juice. She recognized the huge man who had come after her, strangling the one Spider-Man from the black and white dimension she knew. The Spider-Man kicked and thrashed and shot at the man, but the man didn't let him go. The next moment they both were gone. Into thin air. Just like that.

Miguel wrestled with Brix, who with some effort, overcame him and pushed him to the ground. Spider-Ham struck with his hammer at Brix as if striking with a club, careful to avoid hitting Miguel again, who was already in a very bad shape. Fighting two vampires together wasn't something they had thought, and ironically they hadn't thought fighting just two people would prove that difficult. It actually had.

Brix struck back with his sword, missing Ham by just an inch, the edge of his sword running against the neck of the hammer.

There was a cry and Bora was sent back, past them, flying at high speed into the rubles of the broken building. Then Brix let out a scream and was almost instantaneously lifted off the ground by a large robotic hand. Miguel traced the hand, from the metallic fingers to the wrist and all the way up the mechanical shoulder and to the face. A flat upturned transparent bowl-shaped face, a scowl imprinted on the surface, was staring at its hand. It shook Brix like a can of coke and tossed him as hard as possible, into the same building it had thrown his sister. Then the robot leaped high above all of them. Left on the ground, behind the spot where it had just stood was Peni, a frown lined up on her face, madness and insanity glowing in her eyes.

They were all the same. Vampires. Man, woman, alike. Gigantic or miniature. All she knew was that they killed, spider or not, and she couldn't let the same fate take over her friends as it did to the other spider people. Including Noir.

Using her enhanced link with her armor, she thrashed at the building. She _made_ her robot do it. SP/dr punched and jabbed and kicked at the structure. It was clear of casualties. Peni had checked. Bringing both its fists down, the robot tried to reduce the entire thing to dust.

She scanned inside for the vampires, and reached in and pulled them out. One on each hand. Then as if it were playing with only toys, SP/dr knocked them one against the other, with such brutal force that Miguel could practically hear their bones cracking.

The robot then threw Brix on the ground and then sent Bora crashing down against him. Once they both were down, SP/dr raised its foot to stamp on them. Finish them once and for all.

"Peni stop!" Miguel shouted. "Stop it!"

Peni didn't hear him. All she heard was the hundreds of cries of all the spider people killed in the hands of these monsters. All she could see was the huge man chasing after her, his hands just touching her hair from the back. They all had the same evil eyes.

A hand grabbed her and shook her, startling her to the present. "Peni!" It was Ham. "Stop it. Stop it! You're about to kill them. Don't!"

Peni gasped. Using her psychic link, she commanded her robot to stop just as its foot hovered above the vampires.

Miguel came running towards her and knelt down before her so that he could reach down to her height. "You okay?" he asked gently, Ham still holding her shoulder.

Tears flowed down her face. She sobbed, but nodded. Miguel found it a little awkward, because he didn't know what to do about it. So he just patted her on the head.

"It's okay," he said and turned away, rushing to Spider-Man 67's aid, who simply lay on the ground, not moving. Peni rushed behind him, and Ham followed.

"Is he okay?" Spider-Ham asked.

"He's not good," Miguel said, "But he's breathing. Hey old man!" he shook Spider-Man.

"Wake up, grandpa," Ham called at him. "We need to get going."

Spider-Man 67 stirred. "'Grandpa'?" he managed to say.

"Well then for me, you're a great-grandpa," Miguel chuckled, much to Spider-Man's disapproval. "Get up now you piece of tin!"

Peni bent down to reach for him, but all of a sudden, the world span. It was like she was on a giant top, which had just been rotated with much force. She collapsed, and around sixty feet from her, SP/dr fell on the ground on its back, sending dust flying high and about.

Miguel fell off his feet, face down and Brix, from behind, started pounding on him, beating him as if he was quenching the thirst of his entire life. He was so fast that Miguel could hardly perceive what was happening.

"Stay here Peni," Ham said and he left her and Spider-Man 67 together. He leaped at Brix, but Bora caught hold of him. She smashed him against the light post. She would deal with the pig later. Right now she would see to the girl. She turned to Peni and picking up police car she hurled it at her.

In a millisecond Peni calculated the odds of her armor saving her. No chance. The car was far too close to her and by the time SP/dr was back on its feet, she would already be dead. Spider-Man 67 beside her was too weak to even sit up. There was nothing she could do. Miguel was down at the hands of Brix, and Ham was too away, right next to Bora.

She closed her eyes and flinched, preparing for the impact. She imagined the cold metal make impact against her, shatter or break open a few bones immediately. Some broken piece of metal or glass would puncture into her lungs, her heart, maybe. She had always known that driving her father's robot always put her at risk, but that death would come in this way, separated from her armor, was unexpected.

She waited, her eyes still closed, but nothing happened. She tried moving her arms and legs. She could. Without any difficulty. No. She hadn't been hit. She heard glass shatter above her, but no piece rained down. She waited a second longer, and opened her eyes.

The first thing she noticed was the large, _white_ spider insignia on his back. The cloth material appeared to be different, but the general style of red and blue was still there. Strips of white lined his suit here and there. It gave his suit an overall more aesthetic and an athletic look.

He had stopped the car. It was in his hands, raised above his head, and he gently put it down. He turned around to face her.

"You okay?" he asked.

* * *

 _Alright, let's play this one more time. Right from the beginning._

 _My name is Peter Benjamin Parker, and I'm twenty-three. Eight years ago I was bitten by a radioactive spider and since then, I've_ always _been the one and only, Spider-Man._

 _Over the years, I've fought crazy people and saved the city again and again. Look, I've appeared in, maybe, nine movies so far, innumerable video games and quite a lot of series. Last year was pretty great for me, for I starred in two blockbuster movies, and probably got one of the greatest games in history. And from what I have seen, people love me, and maybe you do too._

 _With time, Spider-Man grew, and I finally graduated, this time with a degree in Biophysics. I made wonderful friends, and fell in love with the girl of my dreams. I've been a pretty busy person. Really. I learned how to cook, but people seem to have a lot of grievances against it. I love to eat, too, and pizzas are my all time favorite. I made friends with the Police Captain, and I'm also the one and only, Spider-Cop, ever since._

 _While fighting the monster I created, I lost my aunt. I mostly feel her death's in my hand, because it was my decision. It's still very difficult at times, especially with a missing friend and a great Uncle who's no more, so I don't really think about it. After all, she'd be here had it not been for me._

 _But other than that, I'm perfectly fine. I've met a lot of new people, saved the city from a deadly epidemic, and two months ago, I fought a man with a really hard head. And you know how it goes. I patched up with MJ after a six month long hiatus, my Police friend has gone rogue, and the life of Spider-Man is always weird._

 _But no matter what comes in the way, I always find a way to stand up, because in this great mess of a city that I call "home", I'm the only one who keeps it moving._

 _I'm Spider-Man, and I'm always gonna be… Now, back to the game!_

 **-000-**

 **Fifteen minutes earlier…**

Tears welled up in Peter Parker's eyes.

He learned long ago why chopping onions made you cry, but he still could not stop appreciating how the plant enforced it as a defense against its predators.

Sweat trickled down his back just the way his tears flowed all the way down his face and lingered at the jaw, and then dripped onto the counter where he was chopping the onions. The room he knew as "kitchen" was getting suffocating every minute, even though the roaring exhaust fan tried its best to spin out the "fumes". Put on top of that the bee that was droning around over his head for the last half hour, and that was pretty much enough for a celebration. The faint voices of the loud customers outside crawled in, and he could hear the voice of the television in the dinner hall trying to overpower them. Added again to that was the telephone in the dinner hall, ringing continuously since the last fifteen minutes. Nobody picked it up. It was a busy starting for an early morning.

Peter was constantly aware of the time. He had his ears fixed on the sound of the moving hands of the red circular wall clock behind him. Not that he was running out of time. His colleagues always made it sure that he got enough of it when it was his turn to cut the vegetables and the meat, because everyone knew that he was pretty slow at the job, and it was irksome to everyone, even him. It wasn't that Peter was new to the knife. Years of being a scientist, and a self-proclaimed minor engineer had a different toll on him. It had made him love symmetry. It was more like an obsession now: Every piece of whatever he chopped off the whole, had to be of near equal size and shape. Symmetry.

He brought his sleeve up to wipe his eyes when the door to the kitchen opened with such an authority that even though Peter wasn't looking, he knew who it was.

He looked up to see fat Mr. Byers wearing a yellow flowered shirt which was hanging at the base of his huge round tummy. He was the perfect manager for the restaurant, because as much as he took care that his customers ate, he ate even more. Behind his back, his employees secretly made fun of him, calling him "The Bowling Ball" because he could be pretty much hard on his "workers" as much as kind and loving he was.

He stomped up to Peter, a blue and shiny phone gleaming in his large, cushion-hand. Sometimes Peter wondered. If Mr. Byers and Wilson Fisk were to spare, who'd win, because had the former cut his hair bald, he would pretty much be called the Kingpin's replica.

Mr. Byers had already begun to sweat. He glared angrily at his phone, as if it were the cause of his perspiration. "Only because it's _your_ wife that I'm allowing you to use my phone," he grumbled at Peter, pushing the phone into his reluctant hands. "Next time, even _you_ don't get the favor." With that he turned around and stomped all the way back and out the door, slamming it shut with the same harsh authority he had used to _break_ it open. Outside, the ringing of the hall phone had ceased.

Peter brought the phone to his ears, weary. He never remembered _marrying_ anyone. This _had_ to be a mistake.

"Hello?" he spoke carefully into the mouthpiece.

" _Hello you_ ," said a familiar voice, and the warmth and sarcasm in it brought a smile to Peter's lips. In fact, he was so relieved that he abandoned the onions and leaned against the counter, crossing his legs as he stood. He hadn't heard Mary Jane's voice since the last five days, and it had been pure agony for him.

"Hey beautiful," he said cheerfully. "Did you _actually_ introduce yourself to my boss as my 'wife'?"

There was a beautiful giggle from the other side of the line. The sound of it was a blessing to Peter's ears. She was okay. She was right in the middle of a war zone, but she was okay. " _Ain't I gonna be some day?_ " she asked teasingly.

Peter just had to hear that, and his heart already started pumping faster. "Yep… I mean… yeah!" he said. "You know, you can call me up next time instead of my employer," he chuckled.

" _I did,_ " she said, " _Your phone's switched off._ "

"Are you kidding me?" Peter fished out his cellphone from his pocket, and surely, it was dead. "Oh damn, I think the battery's drained out."

" _Yeah I thought that. I've been trying to ring you up for the last fifteen minutes._ "

Peter held his breath. He was so doomed, if Mr. Jonathan found out. "Wait, so _you_ were the one who had been ringing the restaurant phone the whole time?"

" _Yep,_ " MJ replied heartily.

"Wow," Peter mused. "So what's up?"

MJ sighed. " _Nothing. Just wanted to hear your voice, honey. Really missing it._ "

"Yeah, while _you_ were the one who had to fly all the way to Symkaria!" Peter scolded. "You don't know how it is to not hear from you for even a single day. I even had to spend Valentine's Day all alone and quiet!"

" _Well, I'd thought I didn't have to worry about that. You've got so many girls on the list, especially a hot burglar with whom you… uh…_ "

"Are you talking about Felicia?" Peter asked.

" _You know, you could always fill the gap with her, whenever I'm not around!_ "

Peter shook his head. "Yeah, I think I should do that. It'll be fun, and-"

" _Wait,_ " MJ interrupted, " _You aren't_ actually _thinking of doing that, are you?_ "

"Actually I was."

" _But I was just kidding!_ "

"Yeah I know," Peter said, smiling to himself. On who was the joke now, huh? "I was kidding too. Just come home soon."

" _Peter it's been only two months!_ "

"That's what, MJ! It's been two months! _So_ long! When are you coming back?"

MJ sighed. " _I… I don't know Pete. Just last week my actual purpose of visit came to play. The first move towards success. Oh, and by the way, do you know that the civil war isn't the only thing that's kept this country shaken up?_ "

"What is it?"

" _Symkaria is almost always at a constant battle with its neighboring country Latveria._ "

" _Latveria_ …"

" _Ring any bells?_ "

"Hmm," Peter rubbed his chin. "Sounds very familiar."

" _Anyways, I've got to be going now. Getting some significant progress at work._ "

"Whaaat?" Peter brawled, "Already?"

" _Yeah… I'll call you back sooner. I promise. And when I come back, we'll celebrate Valentine's Day everyday._ "

"Yeah… I… uh… love you. Take care of yourself. I wish I were there with you."

" _Yeah I know. I love you too Tiger._ "

Peter finished with the onions and put them on a plate. He then remembered that the phone he was holing was not his. Setting aside the chopping board, he walked out of the kitchen, phone carefully in hand.

Outside,the chattering of the customers had stopped. There was pin-drop silence in the hall. People had even stopped eating. The only sound in the room was coming from the television news channel, and it didn't sound good.

Peter turned to look at the screen, and at once, he found his hand reach up to his collar buttons and unbutton them. He hurried over to Mr. Byer's desk and put the phone there, unknown to its owner.

* * *

Henry Byers looked on at the news with astounded horror. He really couldn't understand what was wrong with the present days. He'd just relaxed after all the last few traces of the Devil's Breath epidemic were gone, after the last of the Demon's were seen to, and after Hammer Head was down, and now what was this?

The footage they were watching, was all shaky, because most probably the cameramen too had to run for their lives. Cars in the background were hurled from one place to another, a very large crowd of people were flooding the streets, a woman screamed, and then all of a sudden, a loud explosion sounded and a huge fireball erupted from a window in a building, startling a lot of the customers in the hall.

His hands unknowingly touched his phone, and it was just then that he realized that he had seen Parker seconds ago. He turned around in his swivel chair, but Peter Parker was gone.

 **-000-**

 **Now (Present Time)…**

 **Earth-65**

"Your feet are nice." Miles didn't know why he said that. As they walked up the part-stone, part-concrete pathway, Miles constantly aware of the warmth of Gwen's hand even through the clothing, he couldn't help notice the distinguished _tap-tap_ the soles of his leather shoes made, and while he was looking down at them with his untied shoelaces, at the back of his eye moving gracefully, silently, at a constant pace, were the bluish green of Gwen's shoes, keeping up with his own. Seeing them had reminded him of her bare feet he had noticed bare minutes ago. Maybe that's why he said it.

He waited for her to respond, bracing himself for an outburst. What was it when he was with her?

Gwen gave him a confused look. "My feet?" she asked disorientedly.

Miles winced. "Yeah," he replied feebly.

"What about them?"

Miles gulped. "They look strong and soft and smooth and pretty and polished… with… a shade of… gray nail polishes…?" _Oh man!_

Gwen shook her head. "Pretty?" she said, "They aren't supposed to be."

Miles, wide-eyed, asked, "Why, what do you mean?"

"It's just an unasked perk of being bitten by a radioactive spider, I guess."

"But why?"

Gwen sighed. "Miles, do you know that I've been dancing my entire life? I'd enrolled in ballet classes since I was six. Over the years, I've broken my ankles, my toes, twisted my foot, torn out my skin, broke my nails and what not. You can't just learn to stand up on your toes just in a day." She looked down at her shoes. "What you see now is nothing like it used to be two years back. That's why I call it a perk of the spider bite."

"So just the way it helped Peter improve his eyesight so he didn't need glasses anymore?" Miles guessed.

"I guess," Gwen replied, looking fondly at him. "But thanks, that was really sweet."

Miles' cheeks heated up at that. Her attacks were always sudden. Damn, his face was burning all over. _Say something dude!_

"Who do we have here?" a new voice asked. He looked up to face three girls staring curiously at them, from Gwen to Miles and then back to Gwen.

Miles recognized one of them instantly. The shock of fiery red hair that gleamed under the light, suggesting it was a natural shade rather than artificial hair color, was unmistakable. In his mind he secretly gasped. She looked much younger than he remembered seeing her, and she looked much more carefree and had an aura suggesting she possessed some sense of authority. She was a pretty face, but maybe not as much as Gwen, at least not to him, and she too had a quite athletic figure, but more like that of a model at the same time.

Miles realized that he may have just found the Mary Jane of this universe.

"That's MJ right?" he asked Gwen, not realizing that he had been loud enough for the other three to hear.

"That's right," MJ said, astounded.

Gwen cleared her throat. "Girls, this is Miles, and Miles, meet Betty, Gloria and MJ. They are my band mates."

"Nice to meet you Miles," MJ said with a kind smile, extending her hand, creating looks of surprise among the other two girls and even Gwen. "How are you doing?"

Miles, realizing that his arm was still linked with Gwen's, let go of her and took the offered hand. "I'm fine, thank you. Gwen talks a lot about you." _Oops_. That actually wasn't the case, because he never remembered Gwen talking about them specifically. He didn't know why he said that.

He looked sideways at Gwen, who seem to have clearly been taken off-guard. The three girls seemed equally amused.

"Now, now, does she?" MJ mused, looking from him to Gwen and then back to him. "I'm honored," she joked.

"What about me?" the bespectacled girl asked.

"And me?" the African-American girl asked. "What does she talk about me?"

"Yeah, MJ's not the only beauty queen here," the girl with glasses said.

Miles grinned stupidly, foolishly, uneasily. "I know that you are Gloria," he told her, and turned to the African-American girl. "And you're Betty."

The latter slapped her head. "No silly, _I_ am Gloria," she said, "And _she_ is Betty," she pointed at the girl with the glasses.

Miles clapped his hands. "Oh, right," he said, smiling uneasily sideways at the blond girl he loved. He was doomed. "Sorry!"

MJ cleared her throat. "Can we expect some slick moves from you, now that you're paired up with the dancing queen?" she asked Miles, poking him on the shoulder.

Miles' heart sank. Expectation was not something he loved a lot, and what was more disheartening was that he _did_ have some really cool moves, but only when he was in his costume.

" _Ahem_!" Gwen interrupted, "Look who's saying," she raised her eyebrows mischievously.

Both Gloria and Betty smiled.

"Yeah, how can we forget your lip-sync battle?" Betty asked.

"Yeah, MJ," Gloria chimed in, "Especially when you were all dressed up as a man dancing 24K against that boy, that cute boy, what was his name again?"

"Was it Thomas?" Betty wondered.

MJ rolled her eyes. "It was just a re-enact of the original video, girls. That's no talent."

"Wrong," Gwen said, "That's _is_ talent, red head, not everyone can-"

"Gwen!" a male voice called from behind MJ, and when she stepped aside, a tall, well-built figure appeared. Miles saw Gwen stiffen beside him.

"Harry," she said.

Miles took a good look at the man. So _this_ was Harry. And for an odd amount of time, for no rationality, Miles immediately felt some kind of loathing towards him. Maybe because this Harry was a well-looking fellow, with neatly combed brown hair and green eyes and a manly face, wearing formals that made Miles' ones look like a crumpled paper placed beside smooth silk, that there was a nagging feeling of doubt that maybe Gwen found Harry more attractive than Miles, or maybe, she would eventually, for Miles was sure, putting together Harry's looks and his rich attire, every girl would be after him.

"Miles," Gwen shook him out of his thoughts, "This is Harry. Harry, Miles."

Harry put forward his hand and smiled, his eyes not even for a single bit on Miles, but instead on Gwen. "Harry Osborn," he said absentmindedly.

Miles took it. "Hey, I'm… I'm Miles. Morales." Harry Osborn's grip wasn't very firm, considering the fact that his attention was to Miles' right. Not at him. Miles turned sideways, just a bit, to get a hint of what was happening. He found Gwen staring at the ground, checking out her shoes or something, and then she looked up at Harry and returned his dashing smile.

"Hi," was the one word she said, but the way she said is burned Miles. It only opened the gate for more random and morbid thoughts that he had only overcome a few minutes ago.

Harry, most probably satisfied with her smile, turned to Miles, and looked at him with uncertainty. "So he's your date for tonight?" he asked Gwen, almost disbelief and mock showing in his features and his voice. But he was trying his best to hide it.

"Pff," MJ pouted, "Not everything is a date, Harry," she said sternly.

Harry laughed. "Yeah, of course," he said, "I was just joking, MJ."

Betty rolled her eyes. "Were you?" she asked. "Really?"

Harry shrugged. "Of course!" he replied.

Gloria poked him on his chest. "Get your eyes off her for once," she teased, "There are other girls around too. You make us feel worthless."

Harry laughed. "It's nothing like that," he explained, waving his hands.

"Yeah right," MJ said, looking at her watch, "We've got another fifteen minutes until setting up the stage, and until that," she looked at Gwen, "You show Miles around. And I swear, if you are late again, tonight, I'll…"

"Yeah, I get it, I get it," Gwen muttered. She tugged at Miles, and walked away.

Miles followed her, constantly feeling Harry Osborn's cold gaze on his back.

* * *

 **Earth-1048**

Bora saw the new-comer. With one swift motion, she dug her heel into Ham's gut and shoved him away.

"Another one," she growled, pulling out her daggers.

Brix let go of Miguel. "Look who showed up," he said aloud, "The man himself." He turned sideways to his sister. "This is the one we came looking for, Bora."

"He's mine then," Bora said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She smiled. This one looked strong. But the stronger her prey, the more she enjoyed her hunt.

Spider-Man of Earth-1048 couldn't believe what he was seeing. Two people. Just a man and a woman were giving the hardest time to the police force and these people who were trying to impersonate him. They had taken down entire buildings, and if he was not mistaken, there was a gigantic robot lying before him. He shook his head. Everyday just got weirder than the one before.

The blond woman was approaching him. Slowly. Curiously. He could just sense the excitement in her eyes. He noticed the daggers in her hands. Well, this looked like one mistaken individual who was overestimating herself. But Spider-Man reminded himself that he shouldn't be underestimating her. He had made that mistake before. After all, after so much of chaos, gunfire and stampede, she was the one standing. Not the cops. Not the buildings.

He steadily approached her, his spider sense kicking high on alert. Behind her was a man who looked so much like her. Same blond hair. Same face-cut. He could easily have been her twin. And next to him on the ground was a blue figure, looking at him.

"You shouldn't run around in cosplay that way," Spider-Man said. "Last time somebody did that, in my costume, he almost got himself killed."

"We're _not_ in cosplay," Miguel grumbled.

Bora charged at Spider-Man at inhuman speed. For a moment, Miguel guessed he sensed surprise in Spider-Man's features but he soon got over himself and dodged her. When Bora slipped past him, he turned around and jumped and spun in mid-air and lashed out at her back, throwing her off guard. Then it was Brix's turn. Leaving Miguel wherever he stood, Brix dived at Spider-Man with his sword. It was all like a movie scene in slow motion. Spider-Man sensed him coming, and turning around, he did something which looked like he was about to shoot webs, but instead there was a blast of a sound and Brix was sent back flying.

Bora and Brix both charged at him from opposite sides. He calculated who was closer. The man or the woman. The woman. So he did a back-flip, catching hold of Brix's arms on the go, and pulled him along with himself, landing on Bora's soldier and let go of Brix, sending him straight at SP/dr. He then jumped off her and sent a web-bomb, gluing her to the ground.

If he had to be honest with himself, Miguel was a little more than envious. The way this Spider-Man fought, it was all like the flawless combat of a martial artist added to a gymnast, and added to that was the combination of gadgets Miguel never even imagined existed. Spider-Man fought these two people as if they were just regular thugs, tossing them around and webbing them from time to time. He never even received a single hit.

Then SP/dr got up, and something flew into it. Peni. Miguel noticed that the robot came to life, more than before, and its hands turned into an array of weapons: from chainsaws to cannons to knives. Its face was once again lined in frown and it went into the commotion to help Spider-Man. When Spider-Man hurled Brix away, Peni caught him and flung him away like a stone. Bora stepped aside to miss Spider-Man's blows and climbed onto SP/dr, trying to stab at the glass face.

Miguel didn't wait to see what happened next.

He hurried over to Spider-Man 67 to help him up, who seemed to have recovered his strength a little by now. There was a dull, loud thud and Miguel found Ham with his gigantic hammer, which had made impact with Brix just as he had sneaked up on them.

"Gotta admit," Ham said, looking at his hammer, "I think I'm getting to dependent on this thing."

Miguel nodded. "The next Thor."

They were both startled when SP/dr fell to the ground and came slipping on its back next to them, Spider-Man on its belly. All their spider senses went off.

Spider-Man of Earth-1048 stood up, his eyes glued to the group. "You… you're all like me," he said.

"Told ya," Miguel said as SP/dr got up, "We're not crazy people in cosplay. This is the real deal."

Spider-Ham scratched his head looking at Spider-Man. "Why… why do you sound like Ben Ten?" he asked.

Spider-Man looked down at him, obviously surprised. _A talking pig. A talking Spider-Pig!_ "Because he's my favorite?"

"Okay guys, enough of fan discussions here," Miguel said as his spider sense kicked into fifth gear, "We've got to get moving from here."

"I can't," Spider-Man said, "Not with these people here."

"They are not here because of the city, they are here because of you," Miguel said. " _For_ you."

"What do you mean?" Spider-Man asked, but before he even finished talking, a dagger flew past him and bounced of SP/dr. "Never mind," he said.

Miguel stretched his hands. "Alright gang, let's take these two down. And don't hold back, because even your strongest moves aren't going to do them much harm."

"Point," Spider-Man 67 said.

They stood back to back, almost in a tight circle, around which both Bora and Brix moved. Preying. For sometime, there was silence. A very tensed silence. The spiders braced themselves. Ready to defend. Ready to attack. They waited.

And then the siblings made their move. They acted like bullets, in multiple places all at one time. Spider-Ham struck out wildly with him hammer, SP/dr fired its cannons wherever possible, Miguel lashed out with the spikes on his hands, Spider-Man 67 jamming his fists at Brix, but occasionally missing. Out of nowhere a drone flew above them all. A spider-shaped drone. It followed the movements of the siblings and started firing at them.

"Don't tell me those are yours," Miguel said to Spider-Man, already knowing the answer.

"They are mine," Spider-Man said, blocking a punch from Bora. The drone, set its target on the two, started firing wildly when Bora grabbed a broken piece of concrete slab and hurled it at the drone.

"Brix," she called, "Let's take them all out together."

Brix drove his sword at Spider-Man, but Ham blocked it with his hammer.

Right then, the spiders slowed down. They didn't do it by themselves. Something had gone wrong. Their arms felt heavy. Breathing was getting difficult.

"It's… it's happening again," Spider-Man 67 said, "They're killing us."

"No they won't," Miguel said. "Lyla!"

"All ready Miguel," said a female voice and a few feet away, a colorful mass of cloud swirled open before them.

"Peni," Miguel called, "Do me a favor and toss them away from that portal, will ya?"

No sooner had he completed saying did SP/dr kick Brix away. But with Bora it was a different game. She had latched herself onto SP/dr's foot, and no matter how much Peni thrashed, she wouldn't budge.

"Ham!" Miguel called.

"Right," Spider-Ham said and jumped into the portal. Miguel helped Spider-Man 67 into the portal, and once the latter walked in, he turned around to look at the Spider-Man of this universe. "Are you coming?" he asked him.

"I can't," Spider-Man said.

"I knew it," Miguel muttered. "Peni!"

SP/dr's hands turned into full cannons and shot at its leg, blasting Bora away. It then grabbed Spider-Man and dived into the portal. Miguel stepped aside to let them in, and then walking in himself, he closed the portal.

"Hey wait," Spider-Man 1048 called, "Let me get out of here."

Miguel shook his head. "I may, but they're gonna kill you if they find you alone."

"No they can't. I've faced worse than this before. These are just… must be some enhanced individuals dressed up like nineteenth century folks. I can't just stay here watching them ruin my city."

Miguel pulled off his mask. "They won't. Trust me. They were only there because of you. Don't you get it? They took down _entire_ buildings and houses and the police just to get to you. To seek your attention. If we hadn't been there, your girlfriend might as well have been preparing your grave by now."

Spider-Man paced around. "I… I don't get it. Who _are_ you guys?"

Miguel sighed. He pulled his chair and sat down. And explained.

* * *

 **Earth-65**

An hour and a half later, Miles Morales could only think of three things: Gwen, Harry, and food.

It had been a while since he had last eaten anything, and his stomach began to squirm and rumble and heat up right in the middle of Gwen's performance. It wasn't that it distracted him; After everything yet, hunger was the last thing that would pop up into his mind. No. It was more like a rule. A necessity.

Gwen's band had taken leave of the stage twenty minutes ago, and whenever Miles closed his eyes, he could only see her in the drums. He wasn't pretty sure he knew what song they played (it sounded familiar), and he doubted if the exact version even existed in his own universe. His mind and ears had been pretty closed off when they were performing.

Because his eyes had been only trained on Gwen. The way she moved, hit the cymbal, pedaled the drums, her synchronization, all were excellent! Seeing her he had realized that maybe drums were the type of instruments which demanded a lot of physical endurance, and Gwen's was amazing. The beat still sounded in his ears. But more than that he remembered the way her hair jumped around her face as she rocked on, wild leaps that had stunned him with every beat that it hopped.

And he was pretty sure he wasn't the only one who's eyes were fixed on Gwen. Down there was Harry Osborn, probably flirting around with her, or worse… _no no no_ … he didn't want to venture further into his thoughts.

Right now he was talking to… _holy shit_ … he _was_ talking to the girls right now, and he was sticking around Gwen. Miles leaned forward in his seat, watching his every move. The way he patted Gwen on the shoulder. The way he was talking to MJ, laughing so happily because he was standing nearer to Gwen, right beside her. Right now, his hand was on her back. Correction: _Wrapped_ around her back, as if she were only his. And what was she doing? Gwen stood humbly, her hands tied before her, talking to MJ and a few other boys and girls, most probably her classmates.

"Here you are!" a voice startled him.

Miles turned sideways to see Gloria holding out a tray of veg-rolls to him. She was wearing the same kind of apron Gwen and MJ were.

"I've been searching all over for you," she said, "Here was the least place I thought you'd be."

 _She_ was searching all over for him? Not Gwen? Why, because she was enjoying out there? No. She _had_ to be busy herself. Maybe they were assigned the places to serve. Not roam around like free birds.

"You can go down there and meet her," Gloria said. "Harry's there."

Miles looked ahead. "Yeah…" he sounded very uncertain.

Gloria laughed. "He just can't keep his hands off her, can he?"

Miles smiled uneasily. Harry was Gwen's boyfriend. No. Harry was _not_ Gwen's boyfriend. She didn't even have friends. He was the _only_ friend she had. Perhaps. And besides, she had told him she had no boyfriends right? Then why was it bothering him so much?

"Anyway," Gloria said, and extended the tray towards Miles. "Now don't tell me you are _not_ hungry. I felt sorry for you when I met you outside. You look like you are starving."

Miles selected a roll. He didn't know why, because all of them looked the same. Probably, even tasted the same. His hand hovered above the surface and then picked one up. "Thanks!" he said. "You're right. I _am_ starving."

Gloria returned his smile and turned around and walked down the stairs.

"Uh, Gloria?" Miles called out to her.

She stopped and turned around. "Yes?"

Miles stood up and came out of his seat. _He_ would satisfy his hunger, but what about Gwen? Working all day and night, practising and dancing, she must have been tired as hell. "Can I… can I have another one of those?" he asked, pointing at the tray.

"Uh…" Gloria looked and sounded uncertain. She edged over to him and spoke in a low key. "Actually we were pretty much instructed to serve only one to each-"

"Oh," Miles waved his hand. "It's okay then." He would reserve his roll for Gwen. Maybe she needed it more than he.

"But considering you're a special person tonight," Gloria said, "I'll not hesitate to offer you one more." She smiled a little. "I told you. I felt bad for you outside." She picked one herself and handed it to Miles. "Guten Appetit!"

"Are you sure?" Miles asked, taking it.

"Nah, no problem!" Gloria said and with that, she climbed downstairs.

Miles took a bite from his piece and looked at Gwen. He was glad that Harry wasn't there anymore. He hurried down the stairs casually, taking another bite from his roll.

Once he reached down, Gwen was hidden from his sight by people. One moment she was there, and then somebody had to cross by him, and she disappeared. The crowd was simply too huge. The place felt richly out of air and hot, even though the air conditioners and the fans were trying their best to keep the temperature down.

Every passing person had a different way of going through. Some bumped right into him, and some managed to avoid. It was as if he had just dived into a river with a strong current. He was being carried away by the crowd with a similar force, and he had to hold tight onto the food in his hands.

"Miles!" Gwen's voice called out to him from the side. A hand caught hold of his arm and pulled him out of the crowd and into the opening of the exit. Her hand was hidden under a white shirt and black, narrow trousers. The green apron was still on her front. Unlike Gloria, she had no gloves on. She must have taken them off.

" _You_ are serving too?" Miles asked just for the sake of asking.

Gwen shrugged. "Yeah. My part's over now."

Miles nodded. "You must be hungry," he said, holding out the uneaten piece of veg-roll to her. "I managed to get one for you too."

Gwen considered, looking at the roll, and then at him. She looked almost touched. She brushed a strand of hair away from her face. She looked gorgeous doing that. She was looking stunning even now. It wasn't that she had changed her hair or something. Just a change in clothing, and she looked a whole new level of _pretty_ and _beautiful_. "I… I already ate," she said guiltily. "I ate down a bit of pretty much everything I got. From cake to chips to rolls."

"Oh… oh it's… okay," Miles said dismissively. "I'm pretty much starving. I'll finish both." He just couldn't look at her. Maybe she would get a hint of why he was so awkward around her. So he bit down his roll greedily.

Gwen nudged him on the arm. "Hey, thanks!" she said softly, and with a bit of so much gratefulness and kindness that Miles had to look away to hide the redness in his cheeks.

"No problem," he said, avoiding her gaze.

Gwen pulled him by the arm. "Come," she said, heading outside, dragging him along with her. Miles pretended to be reluctantly dragged, when from the inside he was celebrating her touch.

They walked out of the hall and on the way met a gang of boys all huddled together at a corner.

Someone among them, a huge, bald-headed guy called out sarcastically. "Hey who's that kid Gwen?"

Gwen glanced at them for a second and shook her head as they both walked into the cool airy night.

They walked down a stone pathway out of the main building and into some kind of park. A park or a garden, Miles couldn't tell. It looked a lot like a green house. A green house with no roof. Rows and rows of flowers lined both the sides of the pathway, one on top of the other. It was like a big, rich nursery of some kind.

Outside the rows of flowers was a vast stretch of carpet grass and trees. A variety of trees. Here again, occasionally, there were iron stands of different styles and colors holding pots of plants at various heights. There were two tall trees at one side and a hammock set up between them. Surrounding it were pots and pots of roses. There were benches here and there.

"We can sit here for a while," Gwen said, motioning at one of them and sat down, "Enjoy the chill of fresh air. Boy, it can be _so_ humid in there!"

Miles sat down beside her. He looked awkwardly at the eatable in his hand. He'd lost his appetite now that he was sitting next to her, all alone, in a park, in the dark. Like, he saw in movies, a lot of wonderful things happened in a park right? He scolded himself for thinking so far, and stirred when Gwen pulled the veg-roll from his hand. He happily let it go.

"I'm a foodie you know?" she said as she tore it into half, handing back Miles one of them. "So no matter how much I say I ate…" She gobbled down the half piece. "Mmm… That's quite a mouthful!"

Miles watched her as she tried to speak but failed because of the lack of space in her mouth. She chewed and chewed and chewed. He realized he could look at her all day like that, and forget about everything. Especially hunger.

"What are you looking at?" she asked after she finished chewing.

"Oh!" Miles shook his head. "Nothing. Just probably wondering, what's uh… what do you like to eat? These things a lot?"

Gwen sat back and relaxed. "Not _only_ these. Any thing edible goes, you know?" She frowned. "Except cabbage. I _hate_ cabbage."

"Okay, so what do you like, like what's your favorite?" _Congratulations buddy_ , Miles' subconscious mocked, _You just found a very wonderful topic to start off with_.

And it was true. He didn't know what would happen after tonight. There were two possibilities. Either speak out his heart to her, say her everything he wanted, and needed, for that matter, or go back home without a single revelation, and he would be sulking the whole day after that. Probably the whole week. _This is your chance man, it's now or never. Say something!_

"Peanut butter," Gwen said.

"Sorry?"

"Peanut butter, yeah," she said, "Peanut butter. My favorite." She chuckled. "You can even probably give me cabbage if you get me peanut butter. I can survive my _whole life_ on peanut butter. I love it _that_ much!"

"Oh."

How would he start? He just couldn't tell her that he liked her. It would be too awkward. How funny was it, that they were seated at the perfect spot and he couldn't let out a single suitable word from his otherwise unruly mouth? _Hey tongue, roll out and say something!_

And that was it. The _perfect_ spot. The perfect way to begin.

It had been in his nose the entire time they were here. There was that fresh, grassy smell of a garden. The scented smells of the flowers around them. But the strongest among them was that musky scent that was all spread in the cool air. It smelled slightly of rotten eggs, but also sweet at the same time. It was something he had back in his own world too, and suddenly Miles was reminded of all those childhood days he would go out cycling with his neighbor. He would go out of his house even more when he had a lot of homework, and it was then that he used to get this strange, wonderful smell. It smelled like this in the evenings, and he remembered old Mrs. Harris who used to regularly water her plants at sunsets with that lemon-green , long plastic pipe of hers. She had a lot of mango trees in her backyard. They smelled the same. Like this.

"It's a nice place," Miles said, looking around, careful not to catch Gwen's gaze.

Gwen nodded. "Yeah, this was Peter's favorite spot too," she said. "My best friend who's no more," she added, when she saw the confused look in Miles' eyes.

"I'm so sorry," Miles said, looking down at his roll. He decided to get rid of it and shoved it into his mouth.

"You don't have to be," Gwen said.

"How long had you known each other?" Miles asked.

"We were neighbors. And he was like my tail. My constant companion." Gwen smiled at the memories, her eyes very sad. "he followed me wherever I went."

 _Just like I'll follow you_ , Miles thought. _Ugh, creepy!_

Gwen shivered. "It's getting a little too cold in here, ain't it?" she asked.

At once, Miles slipped out of his coat and wrapped it around her. "Wait… but… wait, what about you?" she asked.

"Nah, I'm fine," Miles said casually.

So this was it. He had wrapped his coat around her, he was sitting so close to her, in a park, all alone, so how much more did it take to just close the gap between them and wrap his arms around her? Lean forward and push his forehead against hers? He just didn't understand. Why could he _not_ do it? Why was it that every time he tried to move towards her his body restrained him ? Why?

And then an idea struck him. He remembered he had once edited her picture in his phone. It was a portrait of him and her, and at the background, bare legs, resting on a seat, but its owner was hidden from sight. Peter.

One day, after classes were over, Miles had found himself editing the picture. What he had to do now was to just show her that image and then that would be it. But he wanted to do it indirectly. He wanted her to find it out herself. And there was his idea which would come in handy.

He opened the image and switched off the screen and slipped it casually into the front pocket of Gwen's apron.

"What was that?" she asked, looking down.

Miles scratched his head. "Yeah, could you, uh… keep it with you for sometime? I mean… all in this suit that I'm in, it's pretty _un_ comfortable with a phone in your pocket." He congratulated himself. That was _such_ a lame excuse. But she didn't object.

"'kay," she said, and said nothing else. Hopefully, she would dig it out later and find out. But she didn't. However, Miles waited. And he would wait further, because he wasn't planning on waiting after tonight. No more weird feelings in the stomach. No more butterflies. No more pain. Tonight was the night, he'd decided, and he would confess it to her. If she didn't venture about with the phone, he'd show it to her himself.

He touched her shoulder. Damn it. If Harry could, then why couldn't he? He firmly grasped it above the coat. His heart was thrashing against the inner walls of his chest. But she didn't resist. Breathing all ragged, he inched closer to her and put his arm around her. She was shivering, right? Now time to spread some warmth. He'd have gotten closer but then he stopped. There. Again. It was like there was something warning him: _One at a time! Take it slowly!_ And also, he didn't have a clue as to what he was doing. This wasn't his usual self, holding her. This was his adrenaline-pumped, action-ready, confident, heroic side. He rubbed her arm that was away from him, gently, and he'd have pulled her head against his shoulder had his timid personality not returned. _Take it slowly!_ But then she did it herself. Gwen lay her head against him, eventually, and Miles blasted off to the ninth cloud. He was sure Gwen could feel the bass of his extraordinary momentary heart beat.

They stayed like that, maybe, for another five minutes. Miles figured that this scene would be forever plastered in his mind. It was so… _unusual_. Add to that the sweet smell of the mango trees somewhere in the park, and the scent of the roses and the grass, and Gwen's, her firm, lithe, delicate-like frame against his, and the next time he went cycling around in his neighborhood, he was certain he'd remember this night. His night. _Their_ night. More than desperately.

Gwen sighed. "I've got to go and change now," she said softly, getting up.

"Your bag… filled with clothes… those are the 'tools' you meant?"

Gwen chuckled. "Yeah."

"And your costume?"

"In my bag."

"And you left it there somewhere?"

Gwen handed him his coat. "I keep my bag locked. Luggage lock. And besides, it's in my locker. Which is locked too."

Miles nodded. "Oh."

"It's time you got ready, Miles," Gwen said as she turned around. "Time for your big event. I hope you remember the steps." With that she was gone.

Miles stood up and put on his coat and reluctantly walked out. Why, it was so much better when they were here. Now a very funny feeling began in his stomach. Because right now he was going to his doom: a dance. A dance with a pro like Gwen. A dance in a familiar yet unfamiliar place. A dance in a place where people showed him that he was only a kid. A dance with Harry Osborn somewhere in it.

Why was he feeling so little?

* * *

 **Nueva York**

"You must be talking about the singularity that happened back in December," Spider-Man of Earth 1048 said after Miguel concluded his tale.

"Don't actually know which month it was," Miguel replied, "Every universe has a different time line. While in your universe it can be Christmas, and in some other it can be New Year. Or maybe even Halloween. But yes," he took off the dimension-opening "gizmo" from his wrist, playing with its dial. "A singularity. Yes. It was like the sky imploded and exploded at the same time."

"Yeah," Spider-Man 1048 said, "You could describe it that way. So it was _actually_ you!"

Miguel shook his head. "No. It was centred around a universe called "Earth-1610". I call it the "Ultimate Universe", just the way I call his "Ham World," Miguel said, pointing at Spider-Ham, who was talking to Peni before SP/dr. "That's Peter Porker."

" _What_?" Spider-Man almost laughed out before stopping himself.

"Yes."

"So, we all…" Spider-Man said, swinging his arm in an arc, motioning at everyone in the dark hall, "We're all each a different version of Peter Parker?"

"A different version of _Spider-Man_ ," Miguel corrected him, "Not Peter Parker, at least not as far as my knowledge stretches." He shifted in his seat. "In my world, here, there was a Peter Parker. Heck, there were all the Avengers you probably know. So, I don't think I'm a reincarnation of Peter Parker. I'm just another who happened to get the powers."

"So is there a _main_ Spider-Man? The original 'design'?"

"I don't believe in all that. I mean, not all Peter Parkers are meant to be Spider-Man. Trust me, there's a lot of universes out there somewhere where some 'Peter' was never the Spider-Man."

Spider-Man 1048 shook his head. "I always thought parallel dimensions was a science fantasy. Or fiction."

"Well congratulations then," Miguel said, "You're right in one."

Spider-Man stood up. "I have to go back, Miguel. My world needs me."

Miguel stood up too. "And so do theirs," he said, pointing at Peni and Ham, and at Spider-Man 67 who was slumped in a reclining chair beside them. "But you saw what they can do. Today you faced two, but there's another two who are far worse. Hopefully, the ones we saw today are the last of them. No more I hope, or else things can get pretty bad."

"How do we stop them?" Spider-Man 1048 asked.

Miguel sighed. "I wish I knew," he said as he walked to the computer. "But I don't."

"Well there _has_ to be something."

"Whatever it is, I don't think we can do it just like that. I mean, you _saw_ the way they fought us. The way they could tolerate pain. I mean… the Spider-Man from 1933 literally punched out holes in that big guy with bullets. He was even spilling blood like a _fountain_ did, but then you saw what he did to him at the end."

"He ate him, just like the others?"

"I don't know. I never saw what happened after that, and I'm unable to find these people. But," Miguel lowered his voice, "There's a lot of chance he's already dead, but they don't wanna hear it." Miguel motioned at Ham and Peni with his chin. "The girl's seen enough for a life time." He sighed, shaking his head. "I… I just don't know. I don't think we're enough in strength, and I still don't think we cam beat them just by muscle. Even though we need numbers right now."

"We are outnumbered. Maybe."

"A few hours ago, I was thinking it would be enough to just stop these vampires. But I don't think we can do that."

"So the only way is to keep fighting, and running?" Spider-Man asked. "I'm sorry, I'll fight to the end, but running is just not my type."

By this time, the other three were gathered around them. Peni and Ham stood next to each other, and Spider-Man 67 stood leaning on the computer panel.

"It's not my type either," Spider-Ham said and Peni shook her head too.

"Well, it's not any of our type!" Spider-Man 67 said. "Although, I feel we are doing just that. Here. Hiding."

"This is not hiding, moron!" Miguel snapped. "Why is it that you always think something else?"

Spider-Man 67 pointed at him. "Listen, future man, just look at where you stand. Look around you. Your room isn't even lighted. It's total darkness. You couldn't even move properly out there. You fought like a coward. I saw you. Tell me this isn't hiding."

"Yeah, and who was it that ended up almost dead? Who's the one right now, standing and staggering around like a zombie? Huh? You know why I keep the lights off? Do you actually know why?"

"Why?"

"It's because the light's too much … You know what? Why should I justify to you? You who doesn't even know proper ethics, and _points_ at everybody. You just love your finger don't you? Look, you're even doing it right now!"

"Don't teach me about ethics when you-"

"All right, guys," Spider-Man 1048 interrupted, "That's enough, I think. I… really. That's enough." He looked from Ham to Peni to Miguel. "So where were we?"

"Running," Ham answered.

"No, I mean, before that?"

"We're not enough in numbers," Peni said.

"Right," Spider-Man 1048 said, and turned to Miguel who was trying his best to calm down. "How many more earths did you discover?"

Miguel parted his mask a little and took a sip of water from the bottle he had been holding. "Too less," he said after a pause. "And a lot from these 'too less' are spider-less now."

"Wait, whoa," Spider-Man waved his hand, "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is that…" Miguel took another sip, and then three more, "I haven't found all the universes yet. I can't. There's millions of them out there. Actually maybe infinite. Thing is that out of all that I've found, only a tiny fraction of us spider people are still alive."

"And so you were thinking of recruiting them now? Like a resistance?"

"Initially that wasn't the plan, but maybe it's a ray of hope now. Maybe the _only_ ray of hope."

"Which ones?"

Miguel booted up the huge multitude of computers. "Earth-50101. Indian Spider-Man. Earth-760207. Retired Spider-Man. Earth-120703. Depressed Spider-Man. Earth-26496. A very spectacular Spider-Man. Single. No girlfriend. And… the rest. Earth-1610… 616… 65."

"So now we go on recruiting?" Ham asked.

Miguel shrugged. "The more the merrier, perhaps."

The room started to flash in red. All of a sudden.

"Lyla, if you have to say something, just, why _don't_ you?" Miguel said aloud.

Lyla's beautiful holographic form appeared before them all. "They are still there Miguel," she said.

"Who's still there?" Miguel asked. "Where?"

"The vampires. Earth-1048."

The screen lighted up even brighter for a second, causing Miguel to flinch, and then reduced to a steady brightness. The view focused on a very familiar scene of New York. Out on the streets were walking two similar looking people. A woman and a man. Bora and Brix. Unbelievably, they were walking among the crowd, catching strange looks from the people on the street.

Peter Parker of Earth-1048 gasped.

"What is it?" Miguel asked, looking at him, and turned back to the computers. "Why are they still there?"

"Shoot," Peter mumbled. He looked up at them. "We've gotta go back," he said. "Right now."

"But why?"

"I know why they're still there."

"Why?"

Peter held his breath. "I forgot about Miles."

* * *

 **Earth-65**

"Just relax," Gwen said as she walked alongside him, arms linked with each other. Occasionally people turned to look at them, and they _did_ stare at them. "I'll do everything. You just have to hold on to me."

She was wearing what was called a little black dress. Miles didn't have much of an idea about girls' dresses, but Gwen was dressed pretty simple, yet he'd bet that she looked the most stunning among everyone. Her hair was neatly combed and smelled of shampoo. And she smelled so rich of perfume. Before them, Betty Brant walked with her partner, and she didn't even look an inch as good as Gwen did.

And then she was right. Why was he so tensed up? _He_ was the one with Gwen. Not Harry. Not that big guy. And he'd mastered the few basic steps of a ball dance. This wasn't some sort of contest, after all. And besides, when Gwen promised that she would handle everything, he could trust her.

But no, that wasn't what was bothering him. He was actually worried that he might not be able to impress her enough. Maybe she'd walk home disappointed after tonight, and that was the last thing he wanted. Nope. He'd try his best.

"Is it showing clear in my face?" he whispered to her. "That I'm tensed?"

"Not that much," Gwen whispered back, trying to stifle a smile, "But it's pretty visible to _me_."

The way she said "me" sounded as if she was the only one who knew Miles inside-out, and for once, his spirit soared. _Screw that Harry Osborn…_

His back automatically straightened. His grasp on her arm firmed, and he felt a little upbeat. Today, no matter who these people were, whether he knew them or not, he was gonna show off tonight. Show off because he was with the prettiest and liveliest girl in the hall, the queen of dancers, with him. He looked around. For once he wanted to forget everything else. Forget his homework, and this was even better than the thrill of swinging around in the city. He'd just not think about the world for at least some time, along with all the complexity it carried itself on.

The music was already on. Slow music. Couples here and there were dancing slowly. Miles and Gwen stopped at a spot and she faced him. Yes. He didn't have to turn his neck up now. He was almost her height.

He held her the way she had taught him, and they began to slowly move to the beat. At first, that excitement was back in Miles, but he dominated it slowly and gradually. The more time he spent on the dais with her, the more confident he got.

 _Say something_ , his subconscious urged. _Now!_

She moved about so gracefully around him. Two steps to the left and then back to the right. Then when the music slowly changed to waltz, their stepping changed accordingly, and they moved around in a small square. He was so glad she had taught him this. At first it had seemed a little critical, but then he'd acquired the technique. And slowly, gradually, the beat just got faster and faster. The music artist on the stage changed, and with that, the type of music.

 _Gwen, you look very beautiful tonight. I wish we could be more than friends._

"Gwen?" he gathered up the courage to speak up.

"Yeah?" she smiled at him. She was having a good time. It motivated him to say more.

"Needed to say something."

"Yeah, say it." She did a quick turn where she had stepped.

"I uh…" _I want you to… can you be mine? Please?_ "Um… It's… it's been nice knowing you." _Wow_ , his subconscious clapped sarcastically. _That was really good. 'It's been nice knowing you'? Seriously, that the only thing you got to say man?_

"Oh," Gwen looked down. "Thanks. I'm glad I met you too."

Miles remembered something. "Uh… Where's my phone?" he asked.

"It's in my bag. Locker. You want it?"

"It's fine, we'll get it later."

Miles breathed out. He had to try something better. But maybe Gwen already knew. Maybe she knew that he wanted to follow her everywhere. But he wasn't sure. She only kept him guessing, and that wasn't sufficient. It was moments like this that he figured it would be better to tell her. _Just do it man!_ He should really stop thinking about the possibilities and just say it. Confess it.

"Uh, mind if I… um.. may I?" a male voice asked. It was Harry Osborn. Miles really didn't understand, but why was it that every time he stood close to Harry, his spider sense triggered? Because he was a little too good-looking for Gwen?

Miles looked at Gwen. She looked a little uncertain. But he had learned that whenever someone does a "may I?" in a ball, one should never say no. So he let him take a his place. _ONLY FOR A FEW MINUTES!_ his subconscious yelled. Yes. Miles would come back after five minutes max. He nodded at Gwen and she gestured "okay".

He came out of the dais and was walking to the side when a group of boys surrounded him. Miles recognized that big dude with no hair. "Yo kid!" somebody said among them.

"Listen up," another said.

Had it been in his own world, Miles would have done something about it. Clearly, he never felt okay being surrounded this way. But here, he didn't want to leave a bad memory in Gwen's mind. It was her school after all.

"Hi man!" Miles tried to sound bright.

The big dude leaned down. "Too cheerful huh?" he said. "I wonder why."

The rest of the gang laughed.

"Maybe it's because of the girl," somebody said.

"Yeah, I saw him dancing with Harry's girlfriend after all."

"Wait" Miles said, "She's not his girlfriend!"

This caused a roar of laughter among the group.

A thin boy, long hair and all, poked him on the chest. "Well what do you think? Look at them."

Another one said, "You _do_ believe in every word she said huh?"

The big guy patted Miles' head. "Trust me kid, you don't know her."

"She's not what she seems to be."

"She's only Harry's."

"They've had plenty of _good_ time together."

"Don't tell me she's cheating on Harry!"

"Why would she? No, she's just having fun with the kid. Maybe she sees him as her brother."

" _Brother-zoned_!" somebody laughed.

"Yeah, I bet. She don't like you boy."

"You guys will never change huh?" a familiar female voice cut in.

They all turned around to see Mary Jane. She had her arms crossed and was glaring at the gang. She was wearing the same dress she had worn while performing on stage. Miles figured that maybe she wasn't here for the dance.

She stomped forward and poked the big guy on the centre of the chest. She said something to them which made them leave, but Miles was too busy looking at Gwen among the crowd of couples.

Harry had moves. He was keeping up with her nicely, better than Miles had done.

Miles felt a burning sensation rise inside his body. His heart was beating even faster. He was feeling… _angry_. At himself. Why had he let Harry take over?

He felt a hand touch him and turning around found MJ motioning him to join her somewhere at the back. He followed her to the edge of the hall and they joined Gloria, who was standing all by herself, dancing to the beat.

"Whoa," Miles tried to sound upbeat, "You didn't get a date?"

"Nah," Gloria replied, "I'm fine like this for once."

"And you too?" he turned to MJ.

"Yep," she said, moving her body in minimal amounts. "Boyfriends? _Boring_."

"Oh…"

"I'm sorry if those guys were giving you a hard time," MJ said.

"Nah, it's fine," Miles lied.

"They're a bunch of jerks. Really."

"So Miles," Gloria said, "How are you alone?"

"Harry took my place," Miles admitted. This caused a stifled laugh among both girls. "He… he really likes her, doesn't he?" Miles asked shakily.

"He liked her ever since he came here," Gloria said. "Been asking her out always. Peter didn't like it very much."

MJ nudged her and shook her head.

"Okay…" Miles was liking this less and less. He wanted to ask if they were really a couple, but refrained himself. He just figured he had to trust Gwen. She wouldn't lie to him. He was her only friend, and hopefully, more than that…

Fifteen more minutes, and he still didn't go back. He only stood next to MJ and Gloria, watching Harry and Gwen keep up with the music. He didn't like the way Harry was holding her. Nope. He just couldn't get his eyes off them. From time to time, his head would search the hall for them, and they were still dancing. Gwen looked at ease and even happy form this far. Maybe she really was. Miles didn't understand why he wasn't liking that. Like, Gwen deserved to be happy right? But she looked more cheerful with Harry than she had done with Miles.

 _Just relax man!_ he told himself, even though his heart was wildly fluttering inside him. Miles took a deep breath and exhaled. He had to calm down.

He turned to look at MJ and Gloria. They looked pretty chilled. MJ invited him to join them, but Miles politely declined. No. He didn't know to move his body the way they did.

He turned to look at Harry and Gwen. Harry was gazing into her eyes. But they continued to dance. Pretty easily. Miles closed his eyes and smiled. He figured he could just trust Gwen. He _had_ to.

He only had to look away for a second, when people started to move around, and concentrated at one spot. Gwen and Harry were lost from sight.

He turned to MJ and Gloria. The former's eyes were wide with disbelief, and Gloria looked out of clue.

"What just happened?" she asked MJ.

MJ shook her head and went into the crowd. Gloria and Miles followed.

Miles pushed through the stubborn crowd which wouldn't just budge. There were cheers and hoots echoing through the walls of the hall, louder than the music.

There was a small gap between two guys before him, and Miles took advantage of that and propelled himself forward. And stopped. Literally. A chill ran down his body.

What he was seeing was the last thing he wanted to see. He had always dreaded it. He understood now why people were cheering so much.

Right before him, Harry had one hand on Gwen's back, and one on her jaw. Their lips were locked. And remained like that for a stretch of time.

Some people's voice echoed in Miles' head.

 _You know I'm older than you. Fifteen months, but it's pretty significant if you ask me._

 _Do you…_ did _you ever have a… boyfriend? Do you?_

 _I don't remember._

 _Who's Harry?_

 _Doesn't matter. Let's get going._

 _Hey who's that kid Gwen?_

 _You_ do _believe in every word she said huh?_

So he had been wrong about Gwen. He had simply thought too much.

 _Brother-zoned!_

 _He liked her ever since he came here._

 _Been asking her out always._

Gwen pulled off. She was red in the face. She was huffing. She looked so painfully beautiful. It broke Miles apart when he realized that she could _never_ be his the way he wanted her to.

Her blue eyes, dazzling in the disco lights darted around, scanning the hall, and they stopped when they saw Miles'. Blue eyes trained on brown.

They stared at each other as the crowd began to clear.

* * *

 **Yes, yes. I know. I know. I'm late again. You're probably wondering what's the excuse this time. It's that I've been practically and literally restless. Breathless. A lot of work. Every day the work seems to be piled up. This semester is just too busy.**

 **I would really like to thank Wlyman2009, MarvelousManiac, K2-Black-Panther, Superfan44, TurquoiseInktrovert, Willcc1026, Indigene Syke, Jko333, Spider999, Sol, Felipe Montenegro, PraetorFable, Oblivan, Maximus Hambugerlius, Shahzamaan Khan, Insert Name Here, Guest, Necroknight 303, Juniemunie, Damander E, katee198, Ciandoo, Plumcicle, Kael, ahia for leaving back their awesome reviews. **

**To the readers who pointed out some things which I could correct:**

 **K2-Black-Panther : Thank for pointing out my mistake! And yeah, I found out about the sequels and spin-offs, but thanks anyway!**

 **Indigene Syke : Thanks for that! I did something about that in this chapter, and I hope you liked it.**

 **Insert name Here : Thanks! And also thanks for pointing out that Miguel's suit is actually black in color. I did something about that too, here, and I hope you liked it. And do stop calling yourself "a loser on the internet". You're not. You just pointed out a significant fact in this story. And really sorry for the late update. Hope you read this. Spider-Man The New Animated Series will appear too. At some point of time. By the way I won't be continuing from my PS4 fic because that's a completely different story meant to be a lot darker theme, and if I continued from there then people won't understand if they haven't read that fic and they have to go back to read that story first. **

**I've pretty much replied to all the others, and here's to the ones whom I couldn't reply:**

 **TurquoiseInktrovert : Thank you so much! I hope you liked this, and that you enjoy the rest!**

 **Sol : Thanks a lot!**

 **Shahzamaan Khan : I'm really glad that you liked it. Yes, I tried to refer to some of the most incredible and greatest takes on Spider-Man. I always wanted to write a story on almost everyone of them, but that's not possible. So, I'm just trying my best to do it here. Yeah, Spider-Man TNAS was my favorite. It was pretty much of what I grew up watching, although the number of episodes were very less.**

 **Guest : Here you go, I hope you liked it!**

 **Guest (2) : Yeah, this was a late update. But here it is...**

 **Ciandoo : Thanks! Hope that you read the rest too!**

 **Kael : I'm really glad that you liked it. Unfortunately, updating is taking a little too long, but there will be updates eventually.**

 **ahia : Sorry! Here you go! I'm glad that you are liking it...**

 **Please note that if by any chance I haven't replied to any of you, there can be three reasons. Either I haven't received your message, or I haven't read it, or I haven't figured out what to say. And don't feel insulted if the reply never comes, or if it's too late. I'm a little too occupied these days, and overlooking isn't going to be a surprise. But I try my best to respond.**

 **So please don't forget to leave behind your reviews after reading. They really keep my inspired.**

 **Also, p** **lease note that whatever is the number of reviews that's showing for this story, it's one less than that. For example, if it's showing 61, it's actually 60. I have to be honest. Because the one extra was left behind by myself, saying about when I'll be updating. I thought I could delete it after I post the new chapter, but alas, it won't go because I had been signed in. Now I can't remove it and it's just really in my head.**

 **I also thank everyone who has followed this story and all who have added it to their favorites.**

 **By the way, I'm just a guy with zero idea about girls' dresses, and so, do excuse me for being too vague in describing Gwen's little black dress. Also, I haven't danced for a long while, and in the last chapter, when I was describing how Gwen was instructing Miles to step while dancing, I had to refer to a lot of YouTube videos. And then I was practicing it all by myself too, no girl. Just me, with air. And then a friend came in and asked "What are you doing man?". I said I was practicing for a couple dance.** **But I didn't have a black and white gentle man's suit. I have a blue one.**

 **Okay, so once again, I'm having a lot of tests and exams this month, and I won't be able to sit down to write until the fifth of March. But then, I assure you, you'll get the fifth chapter.**

 **So stay tuned for chapter five, titled "Gwen Stacy" featuring the Spider-Man from the animated series regarded to be one of the best series of Spider-Man yet (it aired in 2008, I think). And... You have to wait to find out.**

 **Also, I'll be changing the story image according to the events that are happening. Maybe not every time, but that's the plan. What you are seeing now, I might change again after another two days, and stop at that until the next update. So, don't depend on spotting/recognizing the story in the Comics Spider-Man page by its image. At least, not for some time.**

 **I am just eager to know, are you planning on sticking with this story till the end?**


	5. Gwen Stacy

**Guess what, folks? The story is still alive. It will be, until I complete it. It just took me some time to get it done.**

 **Firstly, congratulations to everyone behind Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse for winning the Academy Award. A well-deserved nominee, and a well-deserved winner. Thanks to them, Spider-Man is now, once again, an officially Oscar-winning Super-Hero!**

 **On the other hand, apologies for the super-duper delay! I've been writing in between exams, although exams are going quite well. This has been the hardest chapter to write yet, and writing it drained out my energy just the way the vampires drained out the energies of the spider-people.**

 **This chapter is a whole new experiment for me, a _type_ of new genre to me, and I'm worried how it turns out to be like. **

**So, help me get over my anxiety and do review once you are done.**

 **This might turn out to be a long and quite complicated read.**

 **Brace yourselves.**

 **For readers' convinience I have mentioned which Earth/Dimension belongs to which Spider-Hero in brackets()...**

 **(By the way, whenever I use "Advanced-Suited Spider-Man", I'm referring to the PS4 Spider-Man of Earth-1048)**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: Gwen Stacy**

 **Earth-1048**

 **(Home universe of the Advanced-Suited Spider-Man)**

Little did Peter Parker (of Earth-1048) know his day would go far worse than he had anticipated.

The current in the crowd pushed him back, but he didn't stop. The jolly students made their way homeward after a warm, busy day, not having the least of an idea of what had happened in the morning. Their day had been much better than his, or so Peter thought, as he pushed his way against them. His hands were cold. Without the mask, he felt a little exposed, now that he knew who were on his trail. And he had to act fast. Coming here in civilian clothes was the only option he had so as to attracting the least possible attention onto himself. Miguel's lose cotton shirt and jeans fit him almost perfectly, and there wasn't anything else left in the former's wardrobe which wouldn't raise questions about its fashion trend if Peter had put those on.

"You see them, O'Hara?" Peter spoke into his comms.

" _If your_ spider _-drone is trustworthy enough, Parker, then they're at a three mile radius. Hurry up._ "

Peter clenched his jaws. If only he could find Miles sooner, which would be a miracle if he did, considering the number of students that filed out of that door every second. Midtown High School had grown since he himself had been there an eternity ago. The floors of the main building reached newer heights, and the grassy open spaces were mostly hidden under concrete and bricks now. The number of its attendees had doubled.

Once back in his own universe, Peter's phone did show the signal bar gain strength from none to just one less than full, but Miles wasn't picking up his calls, which was unusual, because Miles always did, especially when it was Peter on the other side of the line.

" _Parker, they are within two miles now. Hurry up._ "

Peter's heart began to pound. He felt helpless all alone. Back in O'Hara's base, Spider-Man of Earth-67 was still not fully recovered, and both Peter and O'Hara thought it was too much for little Peni to accompany them back here. Not that she hadn't seen worse.

Spider-Ham was asked to stay behind as well, to look after them all. The only people here were himself and O'Hara. And the latter had to be out there, keeping an eye on the streets.

Peter's footsteps increased pace. He had zero idea where to go. Miles could be anywhere inside the building right now. Or even outside. Usually now wasn't the time he would head home, and for once, Peter was afraid, what if he had gone to investigate the incident at Times Square? But that couldn't be, or else the vampires wouldn't have stayed here any longer, because they would have found him more easily.

But why wasn't the school closed? Why couldn't he see any precautionary measure outside for the students?

Peter tried Miles' number again.

It rang once. Second ring. Third ring. Fourth ring. Fifth ring. Sixth ring.

Miles picked up on the seventh.

" _Hey Peter!_ " he whispered excitedly and dully at the same time.

"Miles where are you?"

" _I'm still at school, got some extra work today. What happened at Times Square?_ "

Peter knew this was coming. "Doesn't matter Miles," he said as he pushed through a group of boys. "Don't go anywhere else. You have to get out of there. Tell me exactly where you are right now. I'm coming."

" _Peter what's wrong?_ "

"Nothing. You come out."

" _Are you okay?_ "

"No, I mean, yeah, just get out of there."

" _Okay, okay, I'm coming out._ "

"Right, I'm at the entrance hall."

Miles hung up.

"Found him, O'Hara," Peter spoke into his comms with a sight of relief.

" _They're inside a mile now._ "

Peter crossed the entrance hall in a haste and chose the left corridor, and making his way past the doors of the various classrooms, he made a dash for the right, almost tripping himself.

The passages were already dark, and the emptiness, for once, made Peter uncomfortable. There was no time he could wait at the entrance because he remembered the swiftness and the agility of the vampires, and they could reach here any second if they wanted to.

Something in him clicked, and he realized he was in the wrong wing of the building. He started to jog his way back out, and just as he rounded the corner, among a dozen or so group of boys, he spotted Miles at the distance, his athletic figure prominent among them. He was heading out and his back was turned to him. There was a book tucked under his arm.

Peter was about to call out to him, but not before Miles separated out of the group and took a turn for the school gym.

 _Why is he heading there?_

Peter hurried through the dark corridor. Long shadows from the large windows lined the floor ahead of him, and for once, Peter didn't like the idea of windows in a school which was right at the centre of so many ruckus. Any time, anybody could sneak in through those. The silence in the building was deafening, because it assured him there was no life inside beside him and Miles. For as long as he could strain his ears, he could only hear the drone and hum of the electric lights on the ceiling. But he didn't get it. Why could he not hear him,and why had Miles not come out by now if he hadn't found Peter inside? Had he… had they… No. He brushed the thought out of his head.

And then Miguel had to speak up.

" _Parker, I can't see them._ "

"What do you mean?" Peter said, his ribs about to shatter inside him. He felt the floor slipping under his shoes.

" _They've disappeared. I don't know how. Get the kid and get out of there!_ "

With a final dash, Peter leaped into the gym. He looked around. It was empty. There was a small door that could have led outside, but the bright silver and white gleam over the door knob promised it was locked. The sitting area loomed over him to his right, but it was completely vacant. At the far end, a stand fan still spun and blew its air for nobody. The place smelled of hard work and sweat, and it was dark, but other than him, there was no soul in there. He could have sworn no body opened the door again.

The gym was deserted.

Miles Morales was gone.

* * *

 **Earth-65**

 **(Home universe of Gwen Stacy/Spider-Woman)**

"Do you even know how gorgeous you look tonight?" Harry had said an hour ago.

"Do I know?" Gwen mused uneasily. She smiled. "Well, only you can tell."

Harry twirled her once, and sniffed slowly. "Well, maybe words won't suffice."

Gwen laughed.

The music had changed to electronic now. The lights began to run wilder over his face, and he inched closer to her, his grip on her hands gentle but firm.

His hair. What had happened to his hair? It used to be long and wavy and tied back in a mess. He used to be a skinny kid, his hands as thick as sticks. He would somehow only stand as tall as her, unlike now, when Gwen would have to turn her head up to level her gaze with his. Under the suit, his hands felt as hard as steel, and as thick as iron pillars. His hair was cropped, and the front stood in short spikes.

It was like she hardly even knew him.

Gwen looked around for Miles, because half her mind was with him. The hall was crowded with hundreds of people, but the signature red of MJ's hair bouncing up and down caught her eye. Then a little behind her, busy with her phone, was Glory. To her left was Miles, looking here and there, looking lost. Once he turned to Gwen, and she immediately looked away, although she had no idea why she did that.

Harry's eyes were closed. It looked as if he was enjoying himself. And for a while, Gwen wondered why _she_ shouldn't.

He was, after all, the last trace of the friendship they used to share with her Peter.

She should relax, and relax she did. She tried. She was amazed it wasn't that difficult, despite the inexplicable tingling of her spider-sense.

And then Harry was suddenly kissing her. She never knew when it happened. For a split second, her sixth sense had kicked into fifth gear, and before she could even move, his lips had crashed onto hers.

She felt the entire mass of the hall shrink to one small, tiny crowd around her. And it suddenly grew hot. She didn't know whether it was Harry's hand on her face, or the heat of the crowd, or her going red.

Harry's lips were pressed against her as if he would die if he loosened up. It was as if this was his first and last time, and he was trying to pour everything into her. His desperate tongue invaded her mouth, and Gwen couldn't pull back. He was very strong. It was like he had been just plastered to her.

The people around her began to cheer and hoot, their voices rising above the music. Gwen's heart was beating faster than the electronic beat, and then she suddenly remembered.

 _Miles! Oh no, Miles!_

With all her strength, she pulled free. The effort left her tired and panting, but she looked around the crowd. She understood clearly well what they said: _The new couple are so cute!_ , _Hey they finally did it!_ , and worse, perhaps the most terrifying one: _But hadn't they already slept together?_

A few of them had been taking snaps, but Gwen didn't bother. Not now. She scanned the hall for Miles, and found him standing before two guys.

It was his eyes she had first caught, and it was his eyes she would last see. And she would never forget them. Brown eyes, forced down in what could be called a pool of pure agony.

It felt hours, but she couldn't get her eyes off his. The crowd cleared, Harry was pulling her again, Betty was walking towards them, MJ and Gloria were watching her face, maybe, and Miles stood rooted to his spot.

One moment he was there, and the next, Gwen could see _through_ him. She could see the people resorting back to their dancing just through the air where his form should have stood.

 _No, oh no!_ Gwen had almost forgotten Miles could turn invisible.

She found her voice. "Miles? Wait!"

She pushed through Betty, and then MJ caught her by the arm.

"Gwen where are you off to?" she asked.

"Miles!" was all Gwen said before she ran out of the hall.

There was no sign of him. People looked at her as she passed by. Behind, she knew MJ and the rest of the band were following her.

"Gwen, wait!" Betty said as she caught up with Gwen. "Where… what happened to him?"

"I don't know, search!" Gwen said, her eyes already set miles ahead.

"He was with us…" MJ panted.

"And now he's not," Gwen said. "Please."

She ran towards the front of the school while the rest of the girls split up.

"Miles!" she called. "Miles!"

She felt one of Flash's boys reach out of nowhere and clasp her hand.

Gwen grabbed the boy's hand with her other hand and pulled down hard, sending him slamming face-down on the floor.

He let out a shout but Gwen didn't wait.

" _Miles_!"

He was nowhere. Not at the stairs. Not on the roof. Not in the cafeteria.

But when she neared the entrance of the school, she felt a flash of colors right near the door as it was pulled open by invisible hands and then shut close again.

 _He's glitching_ , Gwen thought as she made her way towards him.

The doors led her to the wide empty street outside, and she could either go left, or right.

It would be impossible for her to find him now.

So she made for the only way she guessed he would go.

She rushed home.

But when she finally got back to her room, Miles was already gone.

She hurried over to her wardrobe, which she hadn't locked, because there was nothing really important in there besides her clothes, and for sure, she found the suit she had brought for Miles neatly hung up with her other wearables. His own clothes were gone, and Gwen was sure he had left.

She checked if someone was behind her, and finding nobody, she rushed to her desk and picked up her pen-like device. There was a button at the cap and she pressed it, but the end didn't light up and no portal opened before her.

It was drained of charge.

Gwen slid open her desk drawer and put the pen in it. She stepped back and ran a hand through her hair. Her lips were dry and her heart sank.

Water. She needed water. She felt dehydrated. And she needed to go to the washroom and splash her face with cold water and wash away every bit of Harry Osborn that clung to her face, to her lips, to her every- _other_ -where.

Her spider-sense was going head buzzed and maybe for the first in a long time, it bothered her.

 _Breathe. Breathe._

She jumped when a hand touched her from behind.

Gwen turned around to find Harry, all drenched in sweat.

"Harry, please, leave me alone," she said, shaking his hand off her shoulder.

Footsteps sounded outside and within seconds, MJ, Betty and Gloria rushed in, all of them looking defied of energy.

"Well?" Gwen asked them.

Betty shook her head, crouched down, her hands on her knees. "No…" she said panting, "We… couldn't… find… him…"

"Find who?" Harry asked.

"That boy," MJ said, "Miles. You met him earlier."

Harry bit his lips as if in deep thought. "Yeah," he said. "Him. But what's wrong with him?"

Gwen poked him in the chest. "You," she said. "You are _everything_ that's wrong with him."

"But Gwen-" Harry put his hands on her shoulder "-I thought… I thought you liked it back there… had no problem."

Gwen raised her eyebrows. "Like what?"

"Come on Gwen, I thought we were-"

"Together?" Gwen asked, huffing, putting her hands on her waist. "Together, Harry? Just because you want to, you really think you can kiss me before the entire school, or, do that at all? Just because you imagined we slept together you can go around and tell people that we really did it? Just because you've been daydreaming about me in _God_ knows what manner, you really think we are going out?"

"What are you talking about, Gwen?"

"Put your hands off me!" Gwen said, shaking off his hands. "Don't touch me, ever again! I've just had enough."

"Come on," she heard MJ secretly say to the other two girls, "Let's leave them alone."

" _You_ , wait!" Gwen called out to them.

MJ, who was almost at the door, stopped and turned around. The other two girls followed suit.

Gwen turned back to Harry, who was looking confusedly at her. "What?" she asked.

"Why are you being so weird, Gwen?" he asked. "I thought it was alright, because…" his voice lowered and he edged closer, "… I thought… that… night…"

"Harry SAY it out loud! _Tell_ them-" she pointed at the three girls by the door "-Tell them! It's fine! You already _have_ told everyone. Yes! It's _okay_! Yeah, go on, scream if you want to! Just tell them… we slept together… some night… go on! Tell them we've slept together _every_ night since then! Why are you so quiet now? I'm not quiet! Tell them. _TELL_ them! NONE OF THAT IS TRUE. YOU HEAR ME? STOP IT AND WAKE UP! NONE OF THAT EVER HAPPENED! IT NEVER DID. IT ISN'T TRUE! "

She sighed, exhausted from screaming, and started pacing the room like a bird stuck in a cage.

"I don't care," she said, almost in tears, "because none of that's true. You've been spreading false rumors about me… just… I don't…-" she looked up at him painfully "-You've already changed my image at school. I know there are people out there who even think I'm all crap. You already did it, Harry. You've already finished me…"

"Gwen you out of your _mind_? Why will I lie about you? I'm _talking_ about… December? It was snowing?"

Gwen frowned. "Which December?"

"Well, dammit, two months back! You're freaking me out, Gwen, I'm confused now. December 2018. That night when Peter-"

"PETER IS DEAD! DEAD, HARRY, HE'S GONE!"

"He's _NOT_ GONE, _GWEN_!"

Confusion spiraled around inside him. What on earth was happening? Why was Gwen screaming at him claiming Peter was dead? How come she say that? She didn't believe in him, but why? Why did no one believed in him?

Harry's head began to spin. What the hell was happening? What was that screaming he kept on hearing inside his head from time to time? What was that green lizard-like giant charging towards him?

Who was that?

Peter? Peter was alive, wasn't he? Just yesterday, Harry had a glass of champagne… wait. _Champagne_? Peter never drank champagne. _He himself_ never drank champagne! Only his father drank champagne. Or… did he _not_?

What was happening?

The prom. Yesterday night was the prom, wasn't it? The prom that Peter had turned into the…

Harry froze.

"The prom Gwen," he said, "Wasn't it yesterday?"

Gwen closed her eyes. "Christ, Harry, what's wrong with you?"

Harry closed his eyes.

He remembered now.

* * *

Prom. Prom?

It wasn't yesterday. It wasn't two months ago.

That prom had been two _years_ ago. Gwen clearly remembered that day, and she would never forget.

 _It was ten o'clock in the morning. They were in a room spared for band practice and instruments storage._

 _Band practice had been just over, tonight would be their second show, the first to not be a competition, and Betty had made several sketches of what their band name should be and what their motto or symbol should look like._

 _There were six of them in that room then. MJ was unhappy with the name Betty had come up with._

 _"This isn't the name we agreed to Betty," she had been saying._

 _Betty mumbled something. Probably grumbled. She hadn't had her specs on right then. Gwen remembered she had taken to contact lenses temporarily. She still did, at stage performances._

 _"What did you just say?" MJ asked._

 _"Nothing."_

 _Gwen remembered what Betty had said next. "Face won't agree with my fists," although that made no sense to her, and probably it wouldn't have in any way, because she was having a tricky time tackling Harry._

 _"But you'll be coming tonight, then?" he was saying._

 _"I will, but I'll be with them," Gwen said, pointing at MJ and Betty._

 _"Oh, okay."_

 _"So there's no other way?"_

 _"Ah.. no. Yeah. Um…" She rested her hand on Peter's back and leaned on him. His back had been turned to them. It always did, because he was always studying. Like he was right now. Nevertheless, he would only read or study or practise math wherever Gwen would be. He'd follow her everywhere, like her tail. Her constant, faithful companion. "There's no backing out of the gig now," Gwen told Harry. "I'm sorry."_

 _"Ah," Harry said, scratching his head, "Right then. The gig. Okay. I'll see you there I guess." He ran a hand through his long, tied-back hair. That time, those two years ago, his hair was really wavy and long and messed up. He was this skinny kid who was dress around like a hobo, not the rich shiny suited, tone-muscled Harry Osborn of now._

 _Gwen felt Peter spasm under her hand._

 _"What are you doing?" she leaned over from behind, as Harry made for the door._

 _"Definite integrals," Peter replied, but his paper was near blank, except for some illegible scribbling which was far too less of a practice, considering the fact that he was quite fast at calculations and that he had been sitting there with his notebook and book for the last one hour._

 _"Girl, never saw anyone as mean and venomous as you," Gloria said to Gwen._

 _Gwen let go of Peter and stood straight. "Why, what do you mean?"_

 _"Freakin' Osborn, Gwenom."_

 _"What?"_

 _Glory scowled. "Isn't it obvious? He was asking you out, genius. You gonna let him walk away like that?"_

 _Right at that exact time, it hadn't made much sense then, but it did now, but there was a small snapping sound, like the sound of a stick being broken into two. That time, it was just some noise. Maybe it was Peter tapping his shoes. Or Gloria trying on the drums, and messing with the sticks. Or maybe MJ or Betty snapping their fingers. It didn't matter. Who cared?_

 _Gwen cared now._

 _"Excuse me," Peter said and headed out, taking his book and notebook with him._

 _Betty leaned over, a whole stack of angry, rejected papers in one hand, and picked up something which lay on the floor right at the spot where Peter had been sitting seconds ago._

 _She held up a broken half of a pencil in her right hand. The upper half. No sharp points. It had a yellow coating. Science Kingdom, the brand was. Gwen recognized it. Only Peter used their pencils among the people in that room then. Or maybe among the whole class._

 _Betty pocketed the piece casually._

 _A sheet from her stack floated down. Gwen picked it up._

 _And the slow double doors of the room angrily smashed against each other, closing the skinny gap Peter had left behind._

-o0o-

"Why did you come back, Harry?" Gwen asked. "I was all good by myself. You'd disappeared after Peter died, for _two_ years, for _two freaking_ years, Harry. And last month you show up all of a sudden, and you're not even the same boy I used to know anymore."

"I'm sorry, Gwen."

"Why Harry?" Gwen said, her eyes shut. She felt exhausted, as if the blood had been drained from her. She took a deep breath. "What _happened_ to you?"

Harry looked down at the floor. "Peter's dead."

Gwen sighed. " _Christ_! Now he's dead, isn't he? Because you want him dead, he's dead now. Because you wanted him alive, he was alive a few minutes back."

"I wish I could tell you Gwen. I wish I could." He looked at her. His face was a struggle. "I _can't_."

"Then do not expect me to understand. This is too much."

"All I know is…" Harry said, "All _you_ should know is… Spider-Woman… she killed him… Peter… and yet she roams the streets freely… she's still _out_ there."

Gwen swallowed.

"And nobody's caught her," Harry continued.

"She didn't kill Peter," Gwen said, her voice stern.

"Why do you keep _saying_ that?"

Gwen sighed desperately. "Didn't you see what he'd done to himself? He turned himself to a monster! A _freaking lizard_!"

Harry nodded slowly. Multiple times. "And she killed him."

"She couldn't _save_ him Harry."

Harry shook his head. "You don't know Gwen. I was there! I could have done something. But I never did. I just watched my _best_ friend _murdered_ in innocent blood. I just _watched_! Every day I went to school after that, Peter wasn't there. He wasn't there to _help_ me in maths test. He wasn't there to ask us out to go play that _stupid_ board game he created. Every time I went to the library, he wasn't there at the front left seat, nor the front right seat, like he always used to be."

Gwen didn't want to talk about this. The picture was clear in her head. There they were, the three of them. Harry watching, hidden and scared and shocked, herself in her costume, trying to stop an inhuman, monstrous Peter from wreaking havoc and killing people in the town. She'd never forget that instance, all three best friends at the same fateful spot, oblivious to the presence of the other, except her.

"And now you're here to do something about it," she said.

"I _should_!" Harry said, pointing his finger at the floor.

"What then?" Gwen asked.

Harry closed his eyes. "I… don't… know…"

Gwen sniffed, as she wiped her tears away with the back of her hand. "Yeah."

Harry looked up at her. "I wish I could tell you."

Gwen took a deep breath. Her heart was trying its best to escape her ribs. Her legs felt numb. Her hands felt numb. She had had enough. "Get out. Please, Harry. Leave."

Harry looked painfully at her.

Gwen looked away. "Get out."

She never saw him turn, but Harry left quietly.

The other three girls in the room stood, silent. They stood like lawn gnomes, watching the scene unfold.

Not one of them dared to speak.

Gwen didn't look at them. She felt them file out, one by one, and when they shut the door, it didn't even sound.

Gwen somehow managed it to her couch and then collapsed onto it.

 _I just… just wanted to be special… like you…_ Peter Parker's ghost spoke into her head. His dying words. Her closest friend. Her tail, who literally followed her everywhere. Peter's death still crippled her, and she knew she couldn't let that happen again. Had there been another death of somebody close to her, _because_ of her, it would be impossible to live by that. So she had to shut herself off from the world, and only start saving everyone else. As many as she could. Because under that free-spirited personality, she was a broken case.

She thought she could have moved on.

She started living as if he were never there.

But she couldn't.

Someway or the other, Peter would always come back to haunt her.

* * *

 **Earth-120703**

 **(Home universe of The Amazing Spider-Man)**

She was fading.

He stuck his foot in between the two tethered wheels to prevent the web from being cut into two. If, by any chance he failed, Gwen would fall a hundred feet into the clockwork abyss.

The terror he knew right then wasn't like any he had ever had before. It wasn't for the first time he was staring into the face of fear. Of death. What made it so different right now was that he was scared.

Harry Osborn, or if that was even him anymore, wouldn't let go. He was strangling Peter. The only thing stopping him was the loop of web fastened around his throat that was pulling him back. But he was still very strong.

"Peter?" From one end Gwen called. It was like her voice was asking for some confirmation that he knew what was happening and that it was in his hands. Or that she wanted to remind him that she was still down there, dangling on a single thread for her life. The fear in her voice vibrated across the lighted darkness.

The clockwork wheels had had too much after so much of restraint. One of them moved inward on its axle, and his foot slipped. The teeth of the two wheels met, and the web was cut in two.

Gwen Stacy fell.

Right then, a lot many things happened. The entire craziness of the clock tower jumped out of their places. Harry was thrown back among the broken parts.

But Peter didn't wait. He didn't care for Harry. Not any more. Not right now. He pushed himself off the large round wheel he had been on. Gwen was far below him. Among the dozens of broken parts, she edged away from him. From his grasp. From his life.

The clock tower was supported by an iron framework from the inside, which was bathed in cold, indifferent, faded white light that spilled in from the outside. Pinpricks of orange-yellow lighted the insides of the tower, but in Peter's eyes was only one thing: Gwen. If he couldn't catch her, his light would disappear forever.

That look in her eyes he would never forget. Pretty soon he was to know that he was the last thing she would see. His name was the last thing she would ever speak. Her brilliant life would all go with a single snap of her neck.

Heart trembling, Peter shot out a desperate strand of web towards her. It seemed to go on and on forever, but never reach her. Every second, she plunged closer towards her death. Somehow he knew it.

Racing past the broken metallic junk, his web caught her in the stomach. His breath frozen, he was about to stop his fall, and pull her up, but something in him clicked. Something warned him that only doing that would kill her.

In a haste, Peter shot out multiple strands at the walls of the tower. He was surprised how fast his mind was working. He pulled at the webs, speeding up his descent towards her. Gwen had closed her eyes. Maybe she knew by now that he would never catch her. That was what scared him the most. It was like his entire body was working on its own, while his mind sat inside him, shut off and afraid. His hands felt rubbery as he caught her, without him even realizing it.

Her scent. That perfume she wore. That was what pulled him to the present. His hands were automatically wrapped around her fragile frame. Why was it that it felt like an eternity since he had touched her? Why did it feel like she was there with him, yet she wasn't? Somewhere in his mind he knew that he would never touch her again. That was years ago. Five years ago. Why did he see her all of a sudden? How could he have caught her, when she was already dead? But she was right next to him. Pressed against his heart. He would cling to her. He dug his fingers against her skin. No. He wouldn't let her fade again.

"Gwen?" His voice was an echo in the tower.

"Yeah?"

"When are you coming back to me?" He was feeling this tightness in his throat. The words were difficult to utter.

She didn't speak. Just kept quiet, staring sadly at his eyes. When he saw the love lurking in those blue eyes, he began to tear up.

"Gwen?" He shook her. His chest was paining and burning. He sobbed. "Gwen? Please." He shook her. Why wouldn't she speak? "Please. Please come back. When are you coming back to me?" He gulped. A single drop of tear landed on her cheek. "Please come back to me Gwen." His voice broke. And soon after, he broke. He wailed. "Please, come back." Despite all, he knew deep down that she would never come back. He knew he'd never hear her voice call out his name again. She'd never smell the same again.

She closed her eyes once more. Truth was bitter. It always was. But she accepted it. _He_ had to accept it. She was struggling with it too. She shook her head. "I can't, Peter," she said through tears. "I wish it wasn't like this. I really wish."

Peter Parker woke up. His eyes snapped open and his hand immediately felt for the empty space beside him on his bed. The pillow beside his had no depression; it was unslept on.

Slowly Peter sat up. He checked the alarm clock on his bed-side table. The red digits showed that it was three in the morning. His eyes felt somewhat heavy. He brought his hands up to brush away the tears he had shed while asleep.

He leaned back and rested his back and his head on the wall behind his bed. The room was pretty dark, but he could see quite clearly. The door that invited him out to the tiny living room of his tiny ranted apartment, the desk where he worked, to his left, the empty chair facing him right by the opposite wall, and the photo of him with his uncle and aunt staring back at him from the wall.

Peter took in a slow long breath. Something didn't feel right. Why did he see her tonight? What had he done? He hadn't had such dreams for quite a while now. Was it because he was seeing Emily, that he felt a secret guilt somewhere within, of moving past Gwen? Emily wasn't a bad character, was she? She hadn't asked him to forget Gwen. She never did. Was it because he had promised her he would see her today at noon? Because he had made an unwilling, indirect promise?

And then he had to remember the Captain's last words. _Leave Gwen out of it. Promise me that. You promise me_. He knew he was terrible at keeping promises.

 _Don't make promises you can't keep Mr. Parker_ , his teacher's voice echoed through his head, some long forgotten words, bouncing till it hurt. She had been so right.

How he regretted saying what he said. _Yeah but those are the best kind_. It was what had gotten Gwen killed.

It was all in his hands. All of it.

He slid back onto his pillow. He pulled up his blanket and tried to sleep.

* * *

"You look tired Peter," Aunt May said later that morning.

Peter nodded, not looking up. He fiddled with his cereals, when he realized she had her eyes on him. "What?" he asked, reluctantly meeting her demanding gaze.

"Tired, _you._ "

Peter shrugged. "I'm alright."

"Are you?" she asked, her head resting on her palms.

"Yeah, why?" Peter asked, shoving a spoon void of any cereal into his mouth.

"Every Sunday you come for breakfast, you're always in a better mood."

Peter shook his head.

"Peter," Aunt May said, her concern rising in her voice, "Is it the rents?"

"Nah."

"Do you need money?"

"No, no," Peter said, licking his lips. "It's nothing actually. Just a bad dream I had." He shrugged. "Couldn't sleep."

"Oh," May said, standing up, carrying her dish to the sink.

It was then that Peter noticed that she was dressed in her nurse's uniform.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

"I'm working _extra_ these days," she said, "Keeps my mind off things I can't ignore, lol."

" _Things you can't ignore_? Like what?"

"Just… you know… things. This and that. You. This house. Insurance. Sometimes…" she shrugged.

"Sometimes what?"

"You know," she said, wiping her hands on a cloth by the sink. "Ben. All random and morbid thoughts, lol. With so many bizarre people running about, I simply can't stop worrying you're badly gonna get hurt one day."

"Spider-Man is there, and I'll be alright."

She stood next to him, and patted his head for what seemed after a lifetime. "Spider-Man can't save everyone, can he?"

Peter paused. He stopped stirring the milk in his bowl.

" _Can_ he?" May asked again.

"N-n-n… I suppose not," Peter agreed quietly.

"Then?"

"I saw her again, May. Today. In my dreams."

"Oh," May said, going over and locking the back door, "So that's what kept you awake? What did you see?"

Peter sighed and resumed his breakfast. "I saw that I'd saved her. Broken her fall. I don't know why I saw her. It was… uncalled for."

May smiled. "That's what you call a dream, Peter. It's a dream, after all."

Peter sighed and closed his eyes, looking away from his bowl. "After five years…"

May pulled out a chair beside him and squeezed his arm and sat down. "What about that Emily girl?" she asked.

Peter's eyes twinkled, considering. "She's crazy." This brought a smile to his face.

"Crazy _how_?"

Peter sniffed and took a mouthful of cereals. "The last time I switched on the internet before sleeping was at ten. Maybe half-past ten. I dunno. I forgot. So I woke up at three, morning, and not able to go back to sleep, you know, I got back online…" He shook his head. "Forty-six messages from her. And then she included me in some group. Old friends. ESU." He took in a deep breath. "Seven hundred messages, May. My phone literally stopped for ten minutes straight. Neither could I exit the screen nor could I turn off the internet."

"Nice, _Lol_."

"May I should… you know…" Peter stopped. He looked at her eyes. "What is this 'lol' that you have to add to the end of every sentence that you say?"

This time May smiled. It was a ridiculous smile. "You know, the girls that I work with… when they text me- yes, I too am in social media now- so, they use this. 'Lol'. In chats, and sometimes even during conversations. It caught my interest. You don't know what 'lol' is?"

"Laugh out loud." Peter rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, and see? That's it. I'm trying to move along with the trends. You should too. So tell me more about Emily."

Peter sighed again. "It's just that… I don't know. She's good. She fun, I guess." Then after a lot of debating: "She's too dedicated to me, and I feel guilty, because… I can't give enough time to her. And then it hurts her. I can see it. She's… not like… _her_. _Gwen_."

"Peter," May said, putting her hand on his, "Not everyone has to be the same! Gwen was a different soul, Emily is a different soul. You've got to _respect_ that. Gwen's not here with you, as sour or _bitter_ as it sounds, but you have to go on. Get along!"

Peter took a deep breath. "Yeah, maybe."

Aunt May got up and pushed the chair back into its place. "What I'm trying to say is that you have to mix along with the time. Enjoy what you still can and have." And then on a bitter note: "While it lasts."

Peter looked at her but kept quiet.

May continued. "There's a girl that moved in beside us. You remember Anna Watson?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah. She's here as long as I can remember. Isn't she?"

"Yes. Her niece moved in. She goes to Columbia. Theater Majors. Mary Jane."

"That's her name?"

"Yes. Decent girl. Beautiful."

"Oh," Peter said, quite clueless as to why she was speaking of a new girl who had recently moved in with her aunt.

* * *

 **Earth-1610**

 **(Home universe of Miles Morales - the new Spider-Man)**

Miles woke up late that morning.

Up to ten minutes past nine, he had been in a long, temporary oblivion, until the tip of some foreign, other-worldly fingers poke him awake.

"Miles, _despierta_!"

Warm rays of sunlight greeted his face, and when his eyes slowly saw the light, he had to shield them with the back of his hands.

"How long do you plan to sleep?" his mother's voice asked, the sound of curtains being parted accompanying her.

Something blocked the massive attack of the sun on his face, and he felt the part of bed around his feet press down as his mother's herbal scented soap got into his nostrils, and he heard her bangles clink.

He opened his eyes again. She was sitting at the foot of his bed, one hand stretched across his legs, and the other resting on her lap. An adoring smile hinted on her face as she looked him in the eyes. A slight breeze blew in from the window, making free strands of her otherwise tied hair dance around her face.

"Get up darling, it's already nine."

Miles breathed in. Saturday morning. This was his room. He was in his room, away from the constant battle and problems of the outside world. In the house his room was situated in, his parents were there for him. He didn't always have to wash his clothes. Sometimes they would do it for him, although his father insisted that he did it himself, but at the end, no matter what he said, Miles would often find his dad fiddling with the controls of the washing machine as if he had just bought it yesterday. He never had to worry about breakfast; his mom would keep it ready on the table, and when it got cold, there was the microwave oven where he could always heat it. Somewhere out there, at the back, was his bicycle he would find his father washing every Sunday, claiming it was a memory of Miles', their only son's, childhood and that it should always remain clean and "up to the mark".

All his worries never existed in this house which was a paradise, but today it felt different. His mother was there as always, waking and nudging him up. In a few minutes he would see his father rumbling about the house, unable to find something or the other (which sometimes even included his police badge). Miles wished he had remained asleep for at least another hour when suddenly yesterday's episode suddenly washed over him. When he was asleep, his mind was shut off in a way, and sometimes, if good luck would have it, he'd even see pleasant dreams, some of them might have been about Gwen, all lies, but pleasant lies, some of them about his uncle Aaron, again bittersweet lies, and sometimes he'd dream about the blond haired Peter Parker of his world, who'd be alive and _showing him the ropes_ , and Miles would never ever hear the horrible cracking and splintering and snapping sound of the bones in Peter's body, because he was alive, and Kingpin had never killed him. But they were all lies, because when Miles would wake up, the bitter truth about reality would strike him, and strike him bad.

Sometimes, it was a _strongly_ horrible world to live in.

Miles sat up, his body feeling stiff from over ten hours of slumber. He ran his tongue around the inside of his cheeks, and then licked his dry lips.

"Buenos _dias_ ," his mother said gently, her eyes winking teasingly.

"Good morning mommy, _como estas_?"

"I'm doing just fine, mister, thank you. Help yourself to your breakfast. It's ready on the table." She stood up and ruffled his hair. "Take a bath and help yourself by eleven."

" _Eleven_?"

"It's Mr. Henderson's wedding, your dad's colleague. We're having lunch there. There, or, outside. Now hurry." With that, she walked out of the room, leaving Miles all alone, alone with his thoughts about a bride and a groom declared wife and husband, a bride and a groom kissing, Gwen and Harry kissing, people cheering.

 _Friends?_

 _Friends._

He shook the thoughts out of his head and made his way to the bathroom. Now _where_ was his toothbrush? There was his toothpaste alright, but where was the brush? No brush in the stand. _Great_. He had left it back in his dorm. Yesterday afternoon (school was over by the time he had gotten back into his dimension, sending Ganke uneasy for a bit again), his mind had been so off-the-track that he'd forgotten quite a few things. His diary was back there in his room (thankfully he only made sketches and never wrote anything on it), his socks that had badly needed washing, and he now realized his toothbrush was there too. He would have to make it a point of keeping spare toothbrushes at home.

He splashed water on his face and put some toothpaste on his fingers and rubbed his teeth.

In the next five minutes he was at the dinner table, unenthusiastically holding a large piece of sandwich in his hands. Had it been any other day he would have gobbled everything down in a minute, but today his mouth seemed to be uncooperative.

"Honey where are my glasses?" Jefferson Davis stormed in and pulled out the chair opposite Miles to check.

" _No lo s_ _é_ , Jeff, normally they are at the bridge of your nose aren't they?" Rio said from the kitchen, almost giggling at her words. "Did you check it there?"

Miles literally saw his dad bring up a serious finger to his nose, but, bad luck mister, they weren't there. So sorry. Miles smirked, shaking his head.

"What's up with _you_ , Picasso?" Jefferson asked him, "Hurry with your food now."

"Good luck dad."

"For what?"

"Your specs."

Jefferson stopped whatever he was about to do, and rested his hands on the table. "I want to show you something." He walked away and into his and Rio's bedroom, and when he came out again, there was a huge roll of chart paper in his hands.

Smiling, he unrolled it, a satisfying look on his face, and turned it around so that Miles could see.

The sandwich his mother had made consisted of cheese, chicken patty, tomato slices, mayo, little mustard sauce and onion craftily packed between two slices of bread. It was when his right upper and right lower molars had ground a small round slice of onion and its minimal juice had spread through the portions of his tongue that he had seen what his father had actually made. The onion was still squished and in between his teeth, unharmed anymore, and Miles' mouth stopped moving up and down.

The poster-sized paper before him proudly boasted a colorful, graffiti sketch of Rio Morales from her head to her shoulders. Her hair was colored in different shades, curly and open, her face looked young and she was smiling at Miles, as if asking him, _for how long do you think you can keep yourself from me?_

"What do you think?" Jefferson asked when Miles didn't answer. "Up to the mark?"

"Dad this is incredible," Miles exclaimed, "It's good." And he really meant it. "Really. You know-" he pointing at his parents' room "-this… this should go up the wall."

"Are you sure man? I mean, you can give this some finishing touch."

"What's going up the wall?" Rio Morales' voice said from the kitchen.

"Dad's made a poster."

"Nothing's going up the wall, then, Jeff do you understand? Every time you take something off, every time you take a calender off the wall, chunks of paint come out with the cello tape."

"He's made a poster of you," Miles said to his dad's defence, when he had rolled the paper back.

Rio emerged from the kitchen. "What?"

"Seriously."

"Nah… nothing baby, it's nothing."

"Jeff."

"Nah… it was just some child's scribbling."

"Jeff."

"Forget it Rio, it's bad."

"Jeff. Jeff!"

Jefferson sighed. "Alright. Alright." He unrolled it again, and slowly, very reluctantly, turned it towards Rio.

"It can go up," she said after a pause that must have felt like eternity for the police officer, "But only if you get it framed up."

Miles smirked. "Uncle Aaron _told_ me you could do that. Only I didn't believe him."

Jefferson froze. "What else did he say about me?" The look of easiness had disappeared from his face and all of a sudden, he looked very old. He once again rolled back the poster.

"What did he say?" Miles chewed his food. "He said you and he did this all the time. Back in the day. The graffiti, and maybe that's why I can do it too. You know it all makes sense now."

"What makes sense, Miles?" Jefferson said as Rio looked on.

"I always _knew_ you appreciated my work, but you were worried that I'd… that I'd too… you know…"

"You what?"

Miles shrugged. "That maybe I'd too end up like… _him_." Suddenly Miles wasn't so comfortable saying all this. There was something about the look in his father's face, some concern, worry, or even _fear_ , that put him to unease."

"No-no-no-no," Jefferson said as he pulled out a chair and sat down beside him. "Did he say anything else?"

Miles took a bite off his sandwich. "He said you took on the cop thing and he stayed the way he was." Suddenly he found some hopeful thing to say, because he had later realized that the relationship his father shared with Uncle Aaron had been strained. "He said… that you're a good guy. Nothing else."

Rio put a gentle hand on Jefferson's shoulder and he looked up at her. She returned him a reassuring look. "Aaron and I were… some dudes."

Miles sniffed. "Tell me about it."

"Nah," his father waved his hand in dismissal, "Maybe some other time. Right now I want you to finish up and get ready. We get going by eleven."

Miles swallowed his food. "Yeah, dad," he said. "About that." He avoided his father's eyes and looked in the direction of his mother. "Can we… I… I don't… can I _not_ go, please?"

"Miles if you don't go you'll have to stay all alone," Jefferson said, leaning forward on the table.

"Yeah, I can stay."

"Come on man, we'll have some great dinner outside. Or lunch. Or both."

"I… I just don't _feel_ like going out today," he said, although he felt guilty about it.

"Are you okay Miles?" Rio asked.

"Yeah, you got a stomach issue or something?" Jefferson asked. He licked his lips. "I might have some medicine, you know."

"No, dad, no," Miles said, waving his hands, "It's not about that. I'm totally fine. It's just that I wanna stay home today."

"I get it," Jefferson said, "You wanna do your art work, ain't it? Well, give yourself a break every now and then."

"It's not about the art, I just don't _wanna_ go."

"Jeff, mi amor, let him be. He doesn't want to."

"But seriously Miles, look. You stay here and what you gonna eat?"

"I'll… I'll order something. I'll buy some food."

"You sure you okay? Because you sure don't look like it."

"I'm fine dad." Miles said, playing with his sandwich.

"Had you been fine that thing would have been inside you by now," Jefferson pointed at Miles' food.

Miles sighed.

"What is it Miles?" Rio asked. "You didn't look so great when I woke you up either. What is it?"

"Nothing."

"Is is too much homework?" Jefferson asked.

"No."

"Bad grades?"

" _No_!"

"Missing your friends?"

"No, not that."

"Bad dreams?" Rio asked.

"No."

"I know, I know," Jefferson said and paused, when the other two's eyes were fixed on him. "It's a girl, isn't it?"

Miles' heart began pounding like a generator. He looked down at his plate. "No dad."

"Oh come on," Jefferson said, easing back on the back rest of his chair. "I know that look. You are _my_ son. I had the same look when I fell for your mother."

" _Jeff_ …"

"What?"

Rio shook her head.

"Oh come on baby," Jefferson protested, "He's grown up now!"

"He's not even fifteen, Jeff."

"Yeah so? What did we do wrong?"

"He's still a baby, Jeff, he can't even cross the street without holding hands."

Jefferson burst out laughing, even though it felt a little forced. "Set him free then he'll learn."

"But Jeff, not now."

"Come on, you know how I was. Look at him! He looks the exact same as I did. You forgot?"

"He's smarter than you were, Jeff."

"Yeah so what's there to hide? You're just being shy-"

"Alright alright," Miles interrupted, supposedly driven uneasy with the conversation his parents were having. "It's a girl alright."

Rio and Jefferson both turned to him with surprised looks.

" _Ouh_!" the two of them said in unison.

"Told ya he's grown up," Jefferson chimed. He turned back to Miles. "Tell me about it."

Miles shook his head, bringing his second sandwich to his mouth. "There's nothing to tell."

"Auh… there of course is," his father countered. "What's her name?

"I'm just trying to get over her, dad."

"What happened? See Jeff?"

"Did you ever try the shoulder touch?" Jefferson asked excitedly a few seconds later.

Miles stopped chewing his food again. "How did you know that?"

Jefferson raised his hands. "I'll tell you how it works."

"I know what it is dad. Uncle Aaron taught me. But no matter how many hands I put on her shoulder, she's already someone else'. She… she…" Miles found it difficult to utter the words, "She already _has_ a somebody. A boyfriend. I found out later." He looked away. "So it's no use."

A minute-long silence followed. Then…

"You'll find someone," Jefferson said.

"When the time is right," Rio Morales added smiling reassuringly at Miles.

"Yeah," Miles whispered to himself.

There was the sound of footsteps at the porch stairs and the door bell rang.

Jefferson Davis got off his chair, pushed it back in, and went over to the door. When he opened it, Ganke stood at the doorway.

 _Oh man, not him. Not him now!_ Miles thought. Usually, this thought would have occurred if Ganke had shown up at lunch times when Miles' mom would cook something special. Miles would have to worry about his share of chicken legs, because his folks would then distribute the quantity equally among them. When no Ganke, Miles would get two extra pieces, but when Ganke would be there, Miles would get only one extra. Sometimes the whole share of food would go over to the plump boy. Ganke sometimes had this bad habit of showing up uninvited at their house at the wrong time.

But again today wasn't the same. Miles wasn't worrying about lunch. Even if his parents had stayed behind and cooked roasted chicken, Miles couldn't have cared less. No. Today he wanted to be left alone. Totally alone. All by himself.

"Hello Mr. Lee," Jefferson greeted the new-comer. "Come on in."

Jefferson stepped aside as Ganke walked in, his shoes not making a single noise.

"Hey Mrs. Davis," he greeted Rio.

"Hola Ganke, sit down."

"So, Ganke, what brings you here?" Jefferson asked, looking uneasily at his watch. He mouthed something at Rio, but she couldn't understand.

"Oh, nothing," Ganke replied politely, "Miles and I just had this plan of city-roaming today."

"Oh really?" Jefferson asked, surprised.

Miles scowled at Ganke. _What the hell!_ At first this potato had to show up at his doorstep, and now he's making things more difficult for him.

 _Have you lost a screw?_ Miles mouthed angrily at Ganke, who, of course, couldn't understand. Ganke wasn't very good at sign languages.

Jefferson sighed and whistled. "Okay then. Now I get it why Miles is so reluctant to go with us."

"Go where?" Ganke asked.

"Some wedding," Jefferson said. "Colleague of mine."

"Oh."

Rio went back to the kitchen and Jefferson to their bedroom.

"Are you out of your mind, man?" Miles whispered urgently. "I'm not going anywhere."

Ganke smiled to himself. "If you don't, you're probably gonna cry," he said confidently.

"What is it?"

For a second Ganke looked confused. "I thought you'd understand what by now, but, oh well, I guess surprising surprises are even better."

"What _is_ it?" Miles insisted.

"You'll see."

"I'm not going."  
Ganke scowled. It was the first proper time Miles had seen Ganke properly scowl. "You are. I skipped a burger breakfast for this today."

"Well good for you then."

"Found it!" Jefferson said joyfully as he emerged from the bedroom.

"Found what?" Rio Morales called.

"My specs. It was at the sink."

Miles rolled his eyes.

"Alright Picasso," Jefferson said, "You go wherever you want-"

"But you be back by five in the evening, understood?" Rio added, coming out of the kitchen. "And keep calling us. Pick up your calls."

Miles was about to say "okay" but that was when the entire world stopped spinning and all the air went cold. His heart dived down a thousand feet as he suddenly remembered that he didn't _have_ his phone with him. He had left it back in Gwen's dimension, and with that, a whole new chain of worrisome thoughts crossed his mind.

What if she had accessed his phone? What is she had seen that pic, the one which he had edited and scrawled some text? That time, that was exactly what he had wanted, but right now that was exactly what he _didn't_ want.

"Yes, Miles?" Rio said. "Do you have to say something?"

"My phone…" Miles began, running a quick search inside his mind about what he could say. "I… it… there's something damaged with the speakers and the antenna… no… no normal functionality." He couldn't just say he had lost it, although that was the easiest excuse, because then a frantic search would begin for his phone, and it would later result in blocking the phone, blocking his number, blocking all his accounts, everything.

"What!" Jefferson said, "but you were supposed to run that for another two years."

"Yeah, yeah, I know dad," Miles said, raising his hands in surrender, "I'll get it fixed up pretty soon. Don't worry."

His dad looked unconvinced. Rio shook her head.

"Okay then," Jefferson said. "Look. Just be careful out there on the streets. And don't roam around the alleys, okay?"

"Dad! I'm grown up now!"

"No, you aren't. You're just a baby. Still. Listen. _B_ _e back before five_."

* * *

 **Earth-26496**

 **(Home universe of The Spectacular Spider-Man)**

"Peter?"

Sometimes an emotional choke of suffocation would take over, and the lump in his throat would tighten. He would rattle and struggle inside his caged despair when he'd hear her voice. Unable to move, unable to sit, to stand, and awfully stuck somewhere in between.

"Peter, are you trying to drink?"

At first, it had been extremely difficult to avoid looking at her. It still was, although he had learned to somehow contain that urge with angry thoughts he never knew he was even capable of. He had struggled through days, and then weeks, and then months, because he had to see her everyday. The same classroom. The same lab where he worked. And now it had been a year, and he was quite successful in, let alone seeing her, but even stopping himself from turning _towards_ her.

"Peter!"

Gwen Stacy was gone to him. She had been stolen when she was just an inch away, and now he knew there was no chance. She was someone else's, kissing, touching, and god knew what else. Days and days of pining went just in vain. He had broken up with Liz to be with Gwen, just in vain.

 _Harry's left with no father, and I'm left with no Gwen_.

In fact he didn't even belong here in this lush, last get-together party, had MJ not literally _dragged_ him out of his room. He belonged out there in the heart of the night sky, all in red and blue, witnessing the cold, momentary rise and fall of the huge structures New York was famous for as he would swing in arcs from one spot to the next.

An impossible hand touched his shoulder from behind and Peter stirred. The glass of drink was halfway to his lips, and he froze, holding it there midway in the air.

Peter almost shielded his eyes as he turned around on his stool, as if he was going to look right at the afternoon sun. He slowly looked at his ultimate test, from the floor, right up her legs, all the way up her torso, and then at her face.

Maybe, somewhere, in the deepest corners of his mind, he had imagined he would see a sad face, the same she had had on the grave of Norman Osborn, for he was a tad disappointed when he found her expressionless. She even looked cold. God! Looking at the sun would have been easier.

"Hey Gwen," he blurted out.

She pointed at the glass in his hand. "You've taken onto drinking now?" she asked, her face still not giving away anything.

Peter shrugged. "It's just cranberry," he said, taking a sip, and putting it back on the counter which was now behind him.

Gwen bit her lower lip. "Peter, I need to talk," she said. "Can we talk?"

Peter almost flinched. "Y-Yeah," he said, "I guess. What is it?" He wasn't surprised how his voice sounded like he was talking to a stranger. Because she was a stranger now. From the girl he had given everything for, she was someone he merely knew. And it wasn't her fault. It was his. Everything had been his fault all along. Had it not been for him, Harry's father would still have been alive. Gwen would have been his. Had he chosen honestly, had he listened to what his heart had said, he wouldn't have chosen Liz over Gwen, and he wouldn't have hurt Gwen the way he had done. And then what had he done? He'd asked her, indirectly, to forget all the hurt she'd been hiding inside, all that he had caused her, asked her, to leave Harry and come over to him. And now he had no Liz, and no Gwen. To be honest, it was what he really deserved. He was just a stupid jackass who pitied himself so much that he never felt for others.

Yet, there was that unfair longing of seeing something in her face. He was always afraid that in this one year, she had changed. He hadn't wanted her to, despite wanting her to. It was confusing. Maybe she had moved on, and now that Peter thought of it, he wasn't as happy as he should have been.

What did he want, after all? For her to suffer the same way that he did? But why? What had she done to deserve all that? She deserved happiness.

 _She chose Harry._

And now he lost Harry from his side too.

 _She chose Harry because you made her do it._

But then why did he feel a loathing for the boy who had been his best friend all along?

 _She stood by him and never came back to me._

The image was still fresh in his mind. Norman being swallowed by that huge blast, Harry by his father's grave, mourning for a father who'd never appreciated him. Harry, telling Gwen that one single line which was all that had compelled her to never let go of him.

 _I don't know what I'd do without you Gwen. You're all that's keeping me from going back to the Green myself._ Peter remembered. Word for word.

Gosh, Peter hated green now. He loathed it.

 _You killed his dad. What else do you want?_

Gwen didn't sit down beside him, nor before him. Peter was relieved and unhappy both at the same time.

"How're you Peter?"

There was that hammer that beat down on him from the inside when he heard her say that. She was never the one who'd ask him that. It was beyond reality, because she always _knew_ how he was. She had always had an eye out for him. Peter understood the power of time now. That people _do_ change with time. One year, and he'd never talked to her, nor did she talk to him. They had grown apart a thousand miles just inside a forty-feet classroom.

He didn't let anything show in his face. He just nodded slightly. "I'm good."

She returned an oblivious nod. "What's wrong with your eye, then?" she asked.

For a moment, Peter thought his eyes were welling up with tears, but then he remembered he had taken a punch and pulled out a black and swollen eye the previous day. He had had a hard time convincing Aunt May that he'd just tripped on the pavement and that it was all okay.

But it wasn't okay. Not being able to tell his secret was taking a toll on him. Day by day, he shrunk more and more into his loneliness. Spider-Man was the reason Gwen was hurt too.

"Nothing, just tripped," he lied, when he wanted to scream, _I TOOK A PUNCH BECAUSE I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF EVERYTHING!_

He didn't know why he expected Gwen to lean over and pity him, or say something showing that she was concerned, because she didn't. She just stood there, her hands tied before her, not even looking into his eyes.

"So where are you going?" she asked.

"What do you mean 'where I'm going'?"

"After school, I mean," she said. "College?"

Peter sniffed. "I'll be here, at the ESU. Got a full-time scholarship." He paused. Then, "What about you?"

But he knew.

Her lips curled up in an undetectable, guilty-like smile. "I've gotten into Oxford. That's where I'll be heading."

The whole class knew Gwen had gotten into Oxford. It wasn't that she was always boasting around, but she'd just said to someone upon being asked, or so Peter heard. And then from that someone it spread to the entire class, and maybe even to their juniors. Maybe it had been even announced in their farewell. Peter didn't know. He never attended the farewell.

"Scholarship?" he asked.

"Hundred percent," she nodded.

"Yeah."

The sad or unfair thing was that Peter had had the equal capability to go abroad too. If she could have done it, why couldn't he?

Because he couldn't move out of this city. He was stuck here. New York needed Spider-Man, but he didn't. And he was equally frustrated about it. Here he was, in the same place, when everyone else went abroad, chasing after their dreams. Sometimes he just wanted to hang up the cape. He had had too much.

And then he had to ask the inevitable. "Where's _he_ headed?"

" _He_ who?"

"Harry Osborn." Uttering the name was like uttering a curse.

Gwen shrugged, apparently growing uneasy. "Oxford," she said, merely a whisper.

Something just went off inside him.

Harry was following her everywhere now.

And he was sure he was paying a whole bunch, because he bitterly knew Harry wasn't capable of scholarships. Not a chance.

He'd do anything to be with Gwen, wouldn't he?

"He got a fifty-percent scholarship too," Gwen said, "He's trying really hard."

"Yeah," Peter said through clenched teeth as he stood up. Anger. Why was he boilinghot with anger all of a sudden? If he didn't control... if he didn't... He didn't know why he left his chair. In his trouser pocket, his phone began buzzing. _Hold yourself. Hold yourself. HOLD YOUR SELF-_ "Anything to be with you right?"

Gwen shook her head, as if she hadn't heard it right. "I'm sorry?"

"No, don't be sorry," Peter said aloud, over the music. " _I_ am sorry. It's just my stupid being that just spoke. No, no. Harry is a nice guy, isn't he? He tries and all, and what does puny Parker do? He just sits around, going from one girl to the next, breaking up with one to be with someone else, and then left all alone! Yes, he doesn't try, he sulks all day, he doesn't talk to you, he's pretty stupid. In few weeks' time we're all graduating, we're all going on different paths, and where is _he_ going? Just nowhere. Just _nowhere_! Stuck in this _hellhole_! And then you're off to Oxford, Harry's off to Oxford, really nice, _wow_ , because he tried _really_ hard, and I didn't try hard, and look at me! _Woohoo_! Just _stuck_!"

Gwen was left dumb-struck. Her lips were slightly parted and her blue eyes were bulged in surprise, and this offended Peter even more.

"Shut your lips Gwen," Peters said, "I'm not kissing you. You go and kiss Harry, lick his face off, but _don't_ ever come near me _again_. I don't know you, and I don't wanna know you. _Ever_."

Her face turned red and tears flowed down her cheeks. _Yes, just cry_ , Peter said to her in his mind, _Just cry. Show me your tears. Let them out. You've been happy too long, when I spend hours crying everyday. Cry, just cry. I like it_.

By now the entire hall had dissolved. The people, the music, MJ, Flash, everyone. It was only a dark, floor-less, wall-less, ceiling-less, vacuum room where he and Gwen stood facing each other.

Gwen was shaking uncontrollably, sobbing, her eyes full of tears. Her cheeks _drenched_ in tears. And right then, there, Peter had a small urge to brush away those tears and apologize to her.

"I came here to ask to remain friends," Gwen said, trying her best to steady her voice, but failing miserably.

The phone was buzzing wilder than ever now in Peter's pocket. He pulled it out to check. It was an emergency alert. NYPD.

He took one last look at Gwen, and left.

The room had come back into existence, the people and the music with it, and Peter felt the others rushing over to Gwen's aid while he rushed, away from her, towards the exit, trying to hold back his own angry, frustrated tears.

* * *

 **Earth-616**

 **(Home universe of Peter B. Parker)**

For the last twenty or so hours, Mary Jane Watson couldn't remember doing anything but sobbing and weeping, and thinking constantly of her harsh words to Peter.

It pained her, and now she felt ashamed at the thought that she had felt gladness upon seeing the broken and devastated eyes of her former husband when she had thrown one after the other, all his mistakes back at him. That was uncalled for.

When he had shown up at her door that faithful day, her happiness had known no bound, but she was afraid it would eventually lead to him asking her again.

And it did.

She didn't know what she should have said. She was stuck in an ugly position.

The entire day she sat by her couch right by the door, hoping and wishing he would show up. How badly she craved to hear his voice, only she realized now. But what should she say if he came up? After last night, she had unintentionally made it clear that she didn't want him anymore. Never again.

There was a cup of tea right before her, its hot steam long before retired. Right before her, on the wall that stood, was once a framed photograph of Peter and her. It was taken a few days after they had been married. Happily married. They were young and immature, still learning to adapt to the harsh world. His hero days were at his peak. Of course they were! He didn't have that tummy he had so lovingly grown now. He hadn't broken his back. MJ remembered eye-witnessing him tackling Doc Ock. The latter's mechanized tentacles never even came a foot near Peter.

She had removed that photograph now. Actually the wall had been left barren for the last seven months. Now instead of that hung the portrait of a basket of fruits she had once found Harry painting one evening. It had been his gift to the married couple.

When she heard the shuffling of feet on her doorsteps, the nervous way they waited, and climbed down, and climbed back up, she knew it was Peter. He did that when he was nervous. He had this bad habit of walking around the same place when he was unsure. " _Bad idea bad idea bad idea_ " he would mutter to himself. And he didn't ring the doorbell with his web-shooters this time. Not like the way he would casually do at _their_ (now only her) door.

He was afraid, she could tell. She could literally hear him hyperventilate right on the other side of the door.

She was relieved he was here, but on the other hand, she was shaking. She wanted to hear him, wanted to hear _what_ he would say, but again she was afraid too.

She never moved from her place. She had this urge to jump open the door, but somehow, unwillingly her feet seemed to be plastered to the floor.

"MJ?" Peter said after the fifth bell. "Mary?"

She didn't reply. She clasped her mouth with her hand. She was trembling.

"Mary, I know you're in there... I can hear you. _Please_ open the door!"

MJ had to bend down so that her face was level with her knees. She bit her hands. _Why don't you just open the stupid door?_

"Mary-" he was now knocking at the door, and she very well knew he could break it open with just a shove if he wanted to "-Mary, I just wanted you to know." MJ's pulse rate doubled. "I…-" she heard him sigh outside "-Look I'm sorry. I'm… I've made you mad, beyond forgiveness I think, and… and it's… _okay_."

MJ found a single, low moan escape her lips when he said that. To know that she was the cause behind his strained and broken voice was worse than being broken itself.

"I… I hurt you," Peter said, "… I know I betrayed your trust. I wasn't there for you much. I said no when you wanted kids. Gosh, I was scared, MJ. I was really scared. All those people in the grave… Uncle Ben, Aunt May, Harry… _Gwen_ … it's… I feel it's on me. They're all there because of me, Mary. Every time I go to visit their grave, I cannot help but only think how safe I'm keeping _you_. And… and you've already been victim to… my other half. My enemies.

"Having kids, Mary, I was afraid it would get worse. I was scared… that I couldn't protect them. And now I guess… I've been too selfish. I'm… I only went by what I thought was the best. I guess I was… I guess it was wrong of me. So please, please, open the door… I wanna see you, Mary. I wanna see you. I… I don't _have_ anyone else left in this world. Please, I'll do whatever you ask. I'm ready to be a father, anything, but please open the door…"

MJ slipped down onto the carpet. The sleeves of her gown were drenched in tears now. Her throat burned. It was desperate to erupt noise, sounds, whatever, but she forcibly held back for reasons she herself didn't understand. She was sobbing, and she bit her hand so that Peter couldn't hear.

She heard a sob from the other side of the door, and that was all that led her to her feet. She had had enough. She was going to the door.

But then she heard his feet descending the stairs and she hurried to open the door, only to find that there was no one.

There was no Peter on her porch. There was no Peter on the street.

He must have already swung away.

* * *

 **Earth-26496**

 **(Home universe of The Spectacular Spider-Man)**

Thirteen.

Thirteen houses had been set on fire. There was some arsonist out there, lighting things one after the other. Apparently there were two burning cars, a total of twenty-three casualties, fortunately no death, but a large destruction of property.

But what terrified Peter was something else.

While the burning houses exactly weren't next to the other, they were all in a single straight line. Extend the line, and keep on going. Where would you reach?

Queens.

Then keep on extending it further, and where would you end up?

The Parker Residence.

Peter had immediately rung up Aunt May, who, fortunately was away, and would be for the next three days. Nevertheless, he called her all the same, and asked if everything was going alright.

She said it did. She was having a wonderful time writing a new cook-book with some other female author Peter couldn't quite recognize.

But everything was alright.

That was what mattered the most.

But then there were the missing people near Central Park. Another inexplicable scene. The NYPD said a total of fifty-three people disappeared into the thin air. One moment they were there, normal, casual citizens strolling through the park, and then the next moment they disappeared just like that.

"They were like ghosts," one Allen Fazio said, who had reported that he was just on the street, on foot, and he had noticed people alright in there. "They vanished into nothingness. For a second I wondered if I was hallucinating, but no, damn betcha I wasn't. I saw them alright. They had shadows. One of them had a dog set free, the chain in his hands, and then after they were all gone, the chain was still there on the ground."

Another man, a certain Mr. Hanscom reported witnessing a huge man walk out of the shadows, right out the park. "I haven't seen a man as big as him. He had this… _long_ hair tied behind him, and he was dressed very old-fashioned. Like Shakespeare's time."

Bad thing was that Peter arrived too late to the scene.

And now there was nothing he could do. The Police was on their investigation, and Peter would have to remain vigilant throughout the night. Maybe he wouldn't even get to sleep.

Then MJ called. He was pretty sure after he had left Gwen earlier that evening, everyone had come to know what had happened. _Great_ , he told himself. Now the last memory of his entire class would be a bad one for him. Everyone would hate him. Peter swore he would never even look at them ever again, if they ever stood somewhere near him.

He didn't answer her call.

But he was right there in the neighborhood, sitting on the roof of a seven-storied building, watching down as one by one, his friends filed out of the party as it ended.

MJ called again. Peter sighed and picked it up at the third ring.

" _Peter_ ," MJ's voice was surprisingly full of concern.

"Y-yes," he said, "I had to bail, MJ."

" _Peter are you okay?_ "

Peter frowned. "What do you mean if I'm okay?"

" _Oh come on! Gwen told us everything._ " Peter clenched his fist. " _We were all looking around for you. It's okay, it's alright._ "

"I… I don't get you."

" _She_ told _us you missed each other, and that you two grew pretty distant this last year._ "

Peter shook his head. "That was all she said?"

" _Yeah, why, was there something else?_ "

"N-No," Peter lied.

He heard a sigh. " _There was, wasn't it? You can't hide things from me, Peter Parker. I knew it straight off. Gwen didn't say everything. That was evident. To me at least._ "

A pang of guilt impaled Peter at his guts. How cursed he felt right now! Gwen should have told them the truth. She should have told them everything he'd said, word-for-word. But she hid it?

" _Look, Peter_ ," MJ said, " _I don't exactly know what happened, and I guess I shouldn't sneak into it, but I think you should go talk to her. She looked pretty broken the entire time._ "

He froze. _She still cared? Gwen still cared?_ "Was Harry there?"

" _Harry arrived after you left._ "

Peter sighed. "Alright."

* * *

He watched them from the alley.

Gwen wrapped her arms around Harry, and Peter closed his eyes, because he predicted they would kiss, but they didn't. Some surprising relief swept through him.

"I'll call you tonight," Harry said to Gwen as he got into the back of his car.

"Sure," Gwen said, her voice neutral, "Bye."

Harry's car drove away, no smoke bellowing, and Gwen went in, shutting the door close behind her. Peter changed into civilian clothes and then walked up to her door and knocked.

It opened a few seconds later.

Gwen stood at the doorway, still wearing the same dress. She looked tired.

Peter bit his lips. "Gwen… uh.. I'm… I'm s-"

"You don't have to," she said, her eyes avoiding his. She was instead looking at the ground below him.

"Back there, I lost control of myself."

Gwen nodded, sniffing air.

"Okay then," she said, "Good night."

She was about to close the door when Peter held it in place.

"Why didn't you tell them?" he asked urgently.

"Tell what?" she said with tired eyes.

"You could have told them what exactly happened. MJ called me, and she said a completely different story."

Gwen took in a deep breath. "What would I get if I told them, Peter? Nothing. Instead, _you_ would be going out of school with a bad record. _Your_ image would have gotten ruined. Nothing with mine."

Peter shook his head and looked down at his feet. "I'm so sorry…"

"As I said, you don't have to. I've gotta go, Peter."

"Gwen," he looked up. "Is there still a chance?"

Gwen shook her head. "No. It's too late. I've… _settled_ with Harry now. And I don't even know you. You're a total stranger."

"Right. Do you still… want to remain friends?"

Gwen considered. He could see her struggling. "I wanted to, Peter. But now I don't think that's a good idea. I guess we are better off on our own."

That night, there was a light wind blowing. It had gradually gained strength. It whistled eerily, causing bits of papers to fly around. The flowers at Gwen's doorstep seemed to sway to the left.

Peter didn't get why all of a sudden he was so alarmed. He felt something crawl through his skin.

He turned around. There was nothing. The emotionless houses of the neighborhood stood bored and stiff at their places. The dark street glowed under the street lamps.

But there was nothing suspicious.

There seemed to be nothing wrong.

Yet…

Peter ignored it. It must have been his imagination.

"Forgive me for what I said," he told her as he turned to leave. "Please."

Gwen shrugged. "I already forgot what happened."

"Right. Okay, then."

He took one last look at her face, and found the horror that lurked in her eyes, which were looking way past and above him. His spider-sense screamed at him, and he saw a shadow grow before him on the steps leading to the porch. Before he could even calculate what was happening, a heavy hand landed hard on his shoulder and clasped at it. It felt like daggers drilling into his bones, and suddenly he found that he was lifted off the ground… _way_ off the ground… and then he was in the air, shooting towards a wall. He wasn't fast enough in bracing himself. His head went on to hit the hard, brick and concrete surface, and he felt the insides of his skull being redistributed into new places.

The thing clasped at his back and thrashed him to the ground.

Peter was about to get onto his hands and knees, when something as heavy as a truck landed a blow to his back and tried squashing him to the ground.

"PETER!" he heard Gwen's scream. "Oh my god!"

The heavy weight from his back retired, only to come crashing down again, this time even harder.

A metallic taste flowed into his mouth, and there was a sour or salty liquid he spat out. It was blood.

The heavy weight retreated, and before it could come back again, Peter turned around to see a large… thing? It was so tall and gigantic he couldn't even see the face.

He was too late. The thing's foot came down crashing at his guts, and Peter felt more blood splash out through his lips. His breath was knocked out and he gasped for air, besides the pain that bit him.

" _Peter_!" Gwen cried, making her way forward.

"Stay away…" Peter managed to say, his voice lower than a whisper.

Gwen froze where she stood, looking up, but then she dashed forward at Peter, her blonde hair flailing behind her.

She crawled down beside him, and tried pulling him away, when the giant picked her up by the waist.

"Hello, my lady," a devilish voice boomed. Peter looked up to see a monstrous man scanning Gwen up and down. "You are quite the beauty. Maybe after I deal with him, I'll deal with you." He licked his lips. "Deliciously."

A new wave of energy surged through Peter. "Stay. Away. From. Her!" he screamed, and charged at the man, making him lose balance and losing his grip on Gwen.

"Oh," the man laughed. "Spider-Man. I forgot about you."

"Get out of here," Peter said to an astonished Gwen. "Go!"

The man reached out for him, but Peter ducked and leaped onto a wall.

He pulled on the triggers of his web-shooters hidden under his sleeve, and shot a handful of waves at the man. He tore it as if they were paper.

He charged at Peter, and Peter jumped up. But the man caught his left foot and pulled him down and punched him with a fist as large as the wheels of a truck.

The blow left Peter's head reeling.

"Peter no," he heard Gwen cry.

The man held him by the neck from behind and dragged him away.

Gwen came after him, but Peter shot out with his web shooters at her feet and she tripped and fell to the ground.

 _I'm sorry Gwen, but that's the best I can do to protect you._

She got back up, her chin bruised.

It was her eyes that Peter saw that made him feel as if he could die peacefully now.

She was crying and wailing for him, but Peter could not make out her words. All he heard was a beep. In his peripheral vision, he noticed porch lights going on and people coming out of their houses to see what was going on.

But his eyes were locked onto Gwen's blue ones.

When he saw the tears in them, the way they flowed out, the way her face was contorted in pain, he realized that she still cared for him. All that emotionless face was just a mask. Deep down she still cared, like the way she always did. _Peter, I've been in love with you since seventh grade._

Maybe, if realizing that was the last thing he ever realized, or seeing her face, that she cared was the last thing he ever saw, maybe his death was worth it. He could die happy.

He managed a smile at her, although he no longer knew if it looked like a smile from the outside. He lost control of his movements, and his vision blurred.

His surroundings changed, and Gwen slowly disappeared.

And a blue figure hopped in.

* * *

At the last moment Miguel had caught onto his leg.

The giant had dragged the fading Peter Parker into some unknown dimension, but Miguel had caught him alright. The Peter Parker of Earth-26496.

The boy was bleeding all over. His head, mouth, hands, all were covered in blood.

"Lyla, where am I?" Miguel spoke into his comms.

" _My searches show that you are in Earth-199999. A half-barren universe._ "

Miguel didn't have the time to ponder about what that meant. _A half-barren universe_. He pulled at Peter's legs, out of the gigantic vampire's hand.

The vampire turned around. Miguel recognized him. It was the same man who had attacked Spider-Man Noir.

Miguel took the chance.

"Lyla, cut my connection to the base."

" _Miguel, what are you saying?_ "

"Just do as I say." He couldn't risk it. Peni and Ham might have been listening to him. "Do it."

" _You can die._ "

" _Miguel, what are you doing?_ " this time it was Ham.

Miguel ignored him. "Lyla do as I say."

" _Are you sure?_ "

"Just do it."

Peni's voice: " _Miguel don't d-_ "

The connection was cut.

Miguel turned to the man, who had been smiling and looking at him greedily.

"Alright," Spider-Man 2099 said, "Just tell me one thing."

The man licked his lips. "Ask."

"What did you do to the black-and-white Spider-Man?"

The man clicked his tongue. "Doesn't matter. What matters is what I'm gonna do to the two of you."

With that, he charged.

But Miguel had come prepared.

He produced the web-bomb he had borrowed from the Advanced-Suited Spider-Man of Earth-1048 and flung it at the man. For a second nothing seemed to happen, but then the shells exploded, catching the vampire in a net of thick, strong webs.

" _What_ did you do to him?" Miguel insisted. " _What_ did you do the Miles Morales of Earth-1048?"

" _Why_ do you want?" the man said through clenched teeth.

"They're alive, aren't they?"

The man chuckled. "Can't tell. What will you do if they aren't?" he said, and tore open the net of webs.

Miguel hurled at him everything he had got. From web-mines to hard needles, Miguel even fired darts, but nothing happened.

The man simply lunged at him, and Miguel had to get out of the way. But once, the man had caught him, and pinned him to the ground. Miguel kicked him between the legs, momentarily setting himself free, and then he did something.

He had brought a grenade. Three actually.

He produced one from his belt and aimed it at the man twenty feet away and threw.

Now what Miguel saw, if it could be somehow slowed down, one could see the vampire man's face contort with something unexpected: fear. Not anger, but fear, just when the thing was about to explode.

And when it _did_ explode, Miguel had half-expected to see him on the ground, but he still stood wherever he had been standing. The man looked around him in surprise, and then Miguel saw relief draw over him.

He smiled at Spider-Man.

The last two grenades Miguel hurled at him, and while on the distraction, Miguel grabbed the unconscious Peter Parker, twisted his own watch, and jumped back onto the spiraling light of the portal behind him.

While he did so, he saw the man standing still, rubbing his chin… and smiling at him.

It was as if he didn't even care.

* * *

 **Earth-120703**

 **(Home universe of The Amazing Spider-Man)**

Later, he was back on the crowded, neighboring streets of Queens, his childhood nostalgic sights lining up on both sides. But Peter wasn't looking at them. He tried taking May's advice for once and was scrolling through his phone.

Then a message arrived from Emily, asking if he was free for lunch this afternoon. He replied that he was. _Done!_

Walking through the lonely street, Peter looked at her photos. Unlike Gwen, she had auburn hair. She was taller, standing almost at his height, and thinner. Good figure. She wrote columns for the Bugle.

The only problem was that Peter was afraid of making promises to her. To be honest, he never made promises to anyone nowadays. His teacher's words would bounce back to him if he ever tried. _Don't make promises you can't keep_.

And then his mind reeled back to that night. The night the Captain died. Had Peter abode by his words, Gwen would have been alive today. It would have been her texting him for lunch instead.

He hadn't seen the city bus coming. It hadn't stopped, and it shouldn't have, because he had steeped off the curb right when it approached him.

When his spider-sense ran wild as if it were just locked inside a cage, Peter leaped to the other side of the street, in turn making a biker go off-balance and stop crashing onto the light post.

Peter rushed to her aid.

"I'm so sorry, ma'am," he said as he leaned down to help.

"Jerk!" was the single word the woman muttered.

The bike hadn't fallen to the ground. She had managed to stop it. It just went on to hit the post.

The woman got off and took off her helmet with such aggression that it made Peter wince despite his sixth sense. Fiery red hair flowed down her shoulders in a smooth trail. If Emily's hair was auburn, this was the most extreme version of that color he had ever seen in reality. Accompanying the red hair were green eyes and, Peter had to agree, quite a pretty face.

"Sorry?"Peter raised his eyebrows guiltily.

"Ex _cuse_ me," the woman said, "Had I not avoided you either you would have been hit, or I would have been under the bus flattened out. Don't you people watch where you go?"

"Right, right," Peter pocketed his hands. "My mistake. My mistake."

The woman sighed. "They think a 'sorry' will suffice," she muttered under her breath.

"What else do I say then?" Peter said, his temper a slight triggered. He'd never met a woman this good-looking but this fierce. And to look closely, she didn't even look much older. She could easily have been his age.

"How do I know what you should say?" she asked. "Well, if something goes awry with this bike then it's all your fault. God. This isn't even _mine_!"

Peter walked to the front and pressed his index finger at the tyre. He checked the headlights. He checked for dents. Everything was okay.

"Nothing seems to be wrong," he said. "You're good to go."

"Right. I'm 'good to go'. Next time, make it a habit of keeping your phone in your pocket when you walk the streets. People like you are the ones who kill others."

With that she started her ride and accelerated away, leaving Peter quite bemused.

Now that he came to think of it, he didn't understand why, but it felt quite hilarious.

"Mr. Parker," a voice said suddenly from behind.

Peter turned around to find a man wearing shades and lose, white, full-sleeved, cotton shirt.

 _Great_ , Peter thought, _What now?_

"Do I know you?" Peter asked.

"No."

Peter shifted, transferring the weight his body onto his other leg. "Can I help you?"

Peter saw his own reflection in those dark glasses he wore.

"No."

Something about him wasn't right. Peter's spider-sense was all over.

"This might sound strange," the man said, "But I want you to come with me. I _need_ you to come over with me."

Peter scowled. "For what?"

The man could have been looking anywhere. Peter couldn't know. "You're not… safe here."

Peter turned around. "Time to go," he said to himself.

"If you stay here you'll die… Spider-Man."

Peter froze.

"Oh yes, I know about you," the man continued. "I know a lot about you. Maybe everything. But please, we don't have time to wait. You need to come with us."

Peter turned back. "I'm sorry, did you call me 'Spider-Man'?"

"Yes. Because you are." The man smiled.

Peter smiled back. "I'm not."

"Yes,you are."

"No I am not."

"If you weren't, Mr. Parker, if you weren't Spider-Man, had you _not_ been Spider-Man, you wouldn't have stayed around to debate with me."

"Right," Peter turned to go, his heart hammering. How did he come to know? Or was it just some prank? Or maybe some keen observer who had been _stocking_ Spider-Man? That felt funny, because the whole city tried to stock Spider-Man. But who was this guy? And why did it feel so weird to be around him?

Peter felt the change of air movements when something struck him in the back. He deliberately didn't dodge it. The thing stuck to the back of his shirt, and Peter reached behind to take it off. Only when he had a good look at it did he realize it was a ball. Not an ordinary ball, but a ball made of some sticky substance. Web fluid?

"What's this?" Peter asked the man. "Where'd you get this?"

The man rubbed his wrists. "I think you know very well what this is," he said. "As to where I got this-" he raised his hand before his face and pulled back the sleeve of his shirt.

Peter only saw bare skin. "I'm sorry?"

The man approached him, and put a hand on his shoulder. Once again Peter's spider-sense started going haywire.

"Do you feel that?" the man asked, "That tingling sensation? Well I don't, but I do too. At the same time. I don't have the same response to threat like you do, but I too feel things. Just face it, you're like me. And I'm like you."

"Look, man-" Peter shook off the man's hand off himself "-I don't have time for this." There was no way he could have known Peter's secret. _No_ body knew. "I've really gotta go. I made a promise."

"Alright, this isn't working," the man said.

For a second, his dark glasses all lit up, and Peter heard the sound of a screaming girl when something flashed behind him.

He turned around. There, maybe forty feet from him was a girl sitting on the road, right at the center. She was rubbing her knee.

She must have taken a fall.

Peter rushed towards her. "Hey, hey!" he called. "What happened? Are you alright?"

When Peter reached out to her, his senses all kicking again and he felt dizzy as the ground beneath him disappeared and he fell into the dark void that pulled him in.

Peter Parker landed face down on the floor on his arms.

Darkness surrounded him. He got up to find the small girl standing and looking up at him. There was nothing wrong with her.

It was then that he noticed the others. The computers.

But there was something wrong about those others.

Peter walked closer to one of them. The one who was seated before the _huge_ multitude of computer screens and the mainframes. He was wearing a Spider-Man suit, although it looked a little different. White strips ran throughout his arms and legs and even the spider insignia was white and stretched across his entire chest. But perhaps the greatest shock Peter had was when the man looked up at him.

Peter first froze, and then staggered back. He stopped and froze again.

The man. He looked exactly like Peter. Maybe a little young, maybe the face was a little rounder, but nevertheless, he looked like Peter.

Another figure lay on a metallic bed at the back. _Spider-Man-suited_. Peter slowly walked over to him, his hands and legs trembling as to what he might find. And when he _did_ find, he wondered if he was dreaming again.

The one who looked like him, with the white strips on his suit, stood up and approached him. He looked at the unconscious double of Peter on the bed, and then at him.

"Can't believe your eyes, I know," Mr. White-Stripped Spider-Man said. "I went through the exact same thing."

"Who are you guys?"Peter asked when he found his voice.

"I told you," the man with the shades appeared. He might have sensed Peter's surprise upon seeing him, so he said, pointing at the little girl: "Yes, she's with me. I know you don't understand-"

"Then make me," Peter said.

"I will. When I can."

"What do you mean _when you can_?"

"Long story. If you have the time."

Peter clicked his tongue. "I don't have any choice, do I?" He sighed. He thought about going to lunch with Emily, which seemed very distant now with all these weird people. It didn't feel like they would let him go any sooner.

Little did he know that he wouldn't be going home for quite some time now.

Peter sighed. "I'd made a promise."

* * *

 **Earth-1610**

 **(Home universe of Miles Morales - the new Spider-Man)**

"Total failure," Miles grumbled, checking his watch. "It's already seven. Mom and Dad must have gone frantic."

"Relax," Ganke said, standing beside him. "They'd call me. But they haven't. It implies they're still not home yet."

They stood before the locked door; had been standing since the last half an hour when Ganke insisted. And Miles still had no idea who lived here so far off in Staten Island that Ganke would have an interest to pay a visit.

"You still haven't told me," Miles said to Ganke, backing down the porch stairs.

Ganke followed him. "Just an old friend."

Miles almost choked. " _Just_? An _old freind_? You brought me here _far away_ from home, just to meet an _old_ friend?"

"You would have _liked her_ , Miles," Ganke defended, "That is why I asked you to come along."

Miles shook his head. "I can't believe it."

They made their way through the lonely, dimly lit street. It had rained here some time ago. The road glimmered, and here and there were puddles of water.

Straight up ahead was uphill. They would have to climb the slope, and then they'd reach the intersection of the four streets, all in a "plus" sign. From there they would have to take the left.

It was cold in here. Despite his super-human resistance, he felt the urge to be inside his blanket back home. Too bad Ganke was with him. Had he been alone, Miles would have gone all Spidey and swung his way out.

He'd never been much in Staten Island. He had never been in _this_ part of the borough.

A strong wind blew, and Miles wondered if it had been a grave mistake on his part for being here. Ganke was as arrogant to not tell him who lived in that silly-old house. Had Miles known, he would have never come here.

They kept on walking uphill. Against gravity. Against the wind.

The street was mostly empty. One or two cars lined up here and there, and it was devoid of life.

Miles hugged himself tight. He was cold. He was hungry. He started to wonder if he should have joined his parents to that wedding.

By the time they reached the intersection, it started to rain.

First it started drop wise, one drop every five seconds, and then there was the light dribble.

They took the left when the traffic light showed red for the cars, even though there _were_ no cars going around.

The rain caught strength.

Damn. They had to wait now, for it to subside.

There was a departmental store to their right. Miles rushed to it. Ganke followed.

Miles pushed open the door and felt welcomed by the hot air that circulated inside. Somewhere a heater must have been turned on. It was very pleasant.

There weren't many people inside. Maybe just seven or eight, including them and the old man at the counter.

"We'll miss the train now," Miles said. "Thanks a lot."

Ganke didn't look at him, nor did he say anything.

Miles walked into one of the various rows of the store. He just looked around casually. There was a blond woman picking up a few things and putting them in her basket. Her back was turned to them.

Ganke walked up to Miles.

"You wanna know why we came here?" Ganke asked.

"No, didn't you already tell me?" Miles asked. "Or was that a story? Is this a story? No. I don't wanna hear. It's my bad I listened to you."

"Well no-"

Miles backed away from him. "No, Ganke, I don't wanna listen to you. Who knows you might convince me again to-" Miles crashed onto something… somebody, apparently knocking something off, for there was a _thudding_ sound, and then some metallic clink. He realized he had collided with the woman.

Miles didn't get why Ganke was reacting the way he was. First, the boy gasped, and then he smiled. Like a maniac.

He must have gone insane.

"What's wrong with you?" Miles asked him.

A tin can rolled and stopped at his left foot. He'd already forgotten the woman, looking at Ganke.

Miles picked it up. It was a can of peanut butter.

Miles turned around. "I'm so sorry ma'am I totally-"

He froze.

His heart did a double somersault and then practically stopped. Miles began to sweat. His spine went cold.

How could it be? How?

And then he realized maybe why Ganke was smiling so foolishly.

He kept on staring at the woman, and she stared back at him, equally surprised and confused.

She was maybe taller than he remembered. Her blond hair, instead of ending at her jaw, reached down to her shoulders. Her eyebrows weren't pierced. She was wearing a black leather jacket over a white, round-necked shirt underneath, and jeans.

She looked a little older, maybe in her mid-twenties.

But man, she did look exactly like-

"Gwen…"

* * *

 **Earth-65**

 **(Home universe of Gwen Stacy/Spider-Woman)**

Gwen couldn't help noticing the ceiling fan, its blades almost undetectable as it span. For a moment she felt her life was the same. A blur.

Her eyes burned because she couldn't close them. Her body asked for sleep, but she couldn't give that. She would close her eyes and Peter and Miles would stare back at her, and she would have to snap her eyes open, haunted.

The Lizard's cries of agony rang fresh in her head. The fact that it was Peter behind the monster was unbearable. She couldn't just imagine him screaming in pain like that. Maybe it was good that his voice had changed when he mutated.

Had she known it had been Peter all along, maybe she would have been softer on the monster.

She remembered how angry she had been because the thing had broken into her school, and threatened a few of her "friends'" lives, when it was in fact those "friends" who had beat Peter sick early that evening which turned him into the devilish green.

Sometimes she wondered if his death was indeed her fault. Maybe Harry was right. It _was_ Spider-Woman who had killed Peter. Gwen remembered how hard she beat the monster up. Beat _Peter_ up. And the thought made her repel herself.

The very boy who would follow her everywhere, the very boy who admired her alter ego, the very boy who ended up dead in his hero's hands.

She was the last person he had seen, she was the last person he had talked to before he died, unbeknownst to him that behind that mask was the girl he was ready to give his life for.

Gwen met a long-lost acquaintance: sobs. Tears rolled down her cheeks and dropped onto her shoulders as she lay looking at the ceiling.

Had she been with him that day, instead of her band, had she just been with him, she could have avoided Flash almost poking out Peter's eye. She could have avoided Flash from crushing his pride before everyone. Had she just been there Peter would have been sitting by her side right now on the floor, his mathematics book before him, a notebook and a _Science Kingdom_ pencil in his hands. He would look up after solving around forty or fifty problems, look her with the eyes of a scientist who had just discovered a cure to a deadly virus. If his mind was in the right place, he would bring over his board game. His silly old board game that he had so adoringly invented, and which he took with the utmost sincerity and seriousness. Sometimes Gwen would fall asleep on the couch, and when she'd wake up later, Peter's head would be by her stomach, asleep, resting on his arms, the other half of his body resting against the couch. He would sleep with that round specs of his still on. And when Gwen would get off the couch, he would climb aboard and Gwen would put a blanket on him, and take his glasses off and put them along with his books on her desk.

Gwen was crying. She was surprised because she hadn't been this emotional in a long time. She was missing Peter. She missed his straight-forward awkwardness and his trailing her everywhere. Now Gwen walked alone, feeling that emptiness behind her. The first few days after he was gone, she would, as habit, turn around to call out to him, and find no one. Sometimes people would look up at her with sympathy in their eyes, and it bothered her like anything. She was a _freaking_ killer. _She_ killed Peter. Why did people have to feel bad for her?

After his death she had lost the will to communicate. She kept mostly to herself, to this date. She had turned into a mystery. Except, maybe for Miles. With him she felt a different kind of ease. With him she didn't have to pretend. She knew he cared for her, maybe in a different way, but she couldn't understand why it bothered her so much that he was hurt right now. She had hurt a lot of people, but she didn't get why she kept on seeing his eyes, again and again. The pain in them scared her to the bone.

Did he like her? In a way a little different than just friends? He did. It was evident, and it got clearer and clearer every time she stayed around him. But how could it be? Did Peter too love her, as more than a friend? It was always at the back of her mind that he did.

She remembered Gloria's words about Harry. _Isn't it obvious? He was asking you out, genius_.

She remembered the snap of Peter's pencil. That was a rare brand now. Peter had once boasted it belonged to his father's and uncle's time, and that it had actually belonged to his deceased father. There were only a last few pieces remaining with him and he took extra care to not even _drop_ the thing by chance. Let alone break it in half.

He had cared for her, didn't he? Secretly, though, because he was an introvert, to an extent more than herself. Was Peter meant to be with Gwen? Did the Peter from the other world end up with Gwen?

No. It was only MJ. And the thought reminded her about the first time she had witnessed another Peter. A blond-haired Peter. Dead. Again. Right when she had started to wonder if Peter was always meant to die she came across _another_ Peter. A much older Peter, the one like which _her_ Peter would have lived to grow into, had she not killed him. A pot-bellied one. The thought made her smile. Why had it felt like he had known her all along? He had ended up with Mary Jane, right? It was absolutely crazy, but true. But then…

She thought back to his voice. His modulation. Right in the Hudson Valley, in the forest outside Alchemax.

She remembered taking her mask off before them, and Miles' surprise at seeing her.

 _Wanda?_ He had asked.

 _It's Gwen, actually_ , she had said.

And then Peter: _Ohhohoh… you_ know _her...!_ Ve _ry cool…_

 _You_ know _her… you_ know _her…_ know _her…_ know _…_ know _…_ know _… her…_

Ve _ry cool…_ ve _ry… cool…_

It was like he was surprised Miles knew a Gwen too. Did a Gwen exist in his world? If she did, did he know her?

It was such difficulty to stop herself from running to him and embracing him in a big hug. She missed his awkward walking, which resembled her very own Peter's.

 _Trust me, I've been there… you've got to move on buddy…_

She wished she could go back in time through the collider and re-live those moments.

Gwen sat up.

 _Go back in time? Through the collider?_

Why hadn't she thought of that before?

She rushed to her desk and pulled out the pen-like device and wondered why she believed it to be the prototype of the collider that had brought her to Miles' dimension.

Because it wasn't. How could she have forgotten? She remembered herself saying it. _I was blown into last week. Literally._ Of course! Had Kingpin activated the collider earlier and brought her, it should have brought the other four too. If he had activated it earlier, why only her? Why not Peter, Peni, Ham, and the black-and-white Spidey? They should all have been there earlier. But it was only her. Because she found out later that Spider-Man's head had been dipped into the beam of colliding particles, which was why it ended up bringing them instead of Kingpin's wife and son. If only her, then again, why not the others?

She questioned herself.

This design, made after this pen she had stolen from Alchemax, hadn't pulled her into the other universe.

No.

This was something else.

Something she was lucky to have grabbed.

The collider not only messed up and sucked you into a wrong universe, it also threw you to some other timeline.

Her backpack had been on her desk all along. She'd forgotten it yesterday itself when she came home searching for Miles. There was a beep from the inside. Curious, she undid the chains and reached inside. Her hand brushed across a jumble of rubbish, and touched something rigid, wrapped in cloth. She pulled it out.

It was her apron she had used while serving food. There was a front pocket, and she dug her hand in and touched it. And she remembered.

 _Oh no, Miles' phone…_

She fished it out.

It beeped again.

She pressed the button at the side to turn on the screen.

The screen glowed dimly with a message:

 _Battery below 5%. Please plug in charger._

She closed the dialogue box when her eye caught something. It was a photograph of her and Miles. She remembered taking the shot on his phone after doing it with hers. It was on the bus back from Hudson Valley. A pair of legs were visible behind them. Peter's.

But then the image was filtered. Miles had edited it. And there was something written right on the part beside Gwen's image.

She zoomed in.

Gwen read it once. She read it twice. She read it thrice. And then she read it for a fourth time, a fifth time, and kept on reading until the battery dropped to 1% and then to zero, and the screen went dark.

* * *

 **Earth-616**

 **(Home universe of Peter B. Parker)**

Peter B. Parker's last visit to the grave had been six months ago.

Today was after a long time.

As he walked down the path, he imagined all the people he knew under the ground, looking at him. He couldn't see them, but he knew they were there, waiting, because they were all there only because of him.

He'd never admitted to anyone, but Peter had failed every way possible. He had failed as a son, as a nephew. He had failed as a husband.

As a hero.

Every visit was unendurable. It was impossible knowing that the people he grew up with, whom he would see everyday, touch everyday, talk to everyday, smile at everyday, were there just below the ground, still and blank and vanishing.

The afternoon felt stiff. The sun hid behind clouds, its proper rays unable to reach down at him.

He stood before the stone of the last person he'd ever thought he'd visit. Not in eighteen years. He'd never even turn to this side.

To be honest, he didn't know why he had ended up here. Maybe because of what he had said to MJ.

Peter felt empty-handed. He should have brought some flowers.

Gwen Stacy's grave looked dull and barren. The last traces of flowers had withered away.

It stood just the same as it did when he had buried her. When he had buried that body with the broken neck.

Peter flinched, shutting his eyes as the snap of her neck thundered across his head. He shouldn't have come here.

But since the last two months, he had suddenly started missing her. It had all happened when he had seen her. Not exactly her, but _her_ , her counterpart, from another reality.

Gwen had looked just like her when she died. The same smile, the same voice. Maybe she had been a little older than the agile Spider-Woman, but she still moved like her, and spoke like her, like the way Peter remembered she would when he would begin to act awkward.

It was satisfying enough to just see that graceful body move around after what felt like sixteen years. It was like seeing her revived.

It had been enough for Peter to live a little bit happier than he would otherwise have.

"Somebody looks sad," a voice mused from behind.

Peter closed his eyes. _No, not her. What is she doing here?_ He didn't turn around.

Peter took a slow deep breath, cautious that he would suddenly turn around and his pheromones would take over. But they hadn't.

His love for Mary Jane was so strong that he had had it under control fairly well.

"You won't turn to me?" the voice said.

Peter sighed.

"What do you want Cindy?" he asked.

"Oh, you remember!"

Peter turned around slowly.

Cindy Moon stood around twelve feet from him, wearing a formal striped blue shirt and dark trousers.

She was about to walk closer to him when he raised his hand. "No. No. Stand there. Don't come any closer."

Her gaped at him, taken over by surprise. "Is this how you treat an old friend?"

Peter shook his head. "No, I'm sorry. But you know why I'm doing this."

She crossed her arms. "The last time we met, we didn't end screwing each other up, man, relax. By the way, when was the last time I'd seen you?"

Peter shrugged. "Three years ago, perhaps."

He didn't want to recollect all the embarrassing moments they both had shared together. Ten years after being Spider-Man, Peter had one day come to know that there was another like him, locked somewhere in a bunker, who was bitten by the same spider that had bitten him.

And because of that, whenever they came closer, their spider-senses went wild and took over their will, instilling in them an urge to mate.

Ridiculous.

It scared Peter sometimes, thinking that he was almost, on many occasions, about to share parenthood with her, instead of MJ.

Cindy nodded. "You've distanced yourself pretty much since then."

"I'm sorry if I sound rude, Cindy, but I'm pretty much not on the mood to talk around."

She nodded again. "I know. That's what brought me here. I felt you. Remember? I can still feel you from anywhere."

Peter sighed. A little smile spread in his face.

"That's my boy," Cindy smiled back. " _That's_ my boy!"

He shook his head jokingly. "Good talk, Cin, good talk."

Her face suddenly lost all the light and she looked much older within a second. Peter had thought she had hardly changed, that she looked exactly the same as she did when he had freed her from her bunker. But now she looked equally aged as he.

"Peter I was just kidding,' she said, "I came here for a different reason. I need your help."

Peter bit his tongue reluctantly. "What is it?"

"Peter…" she said with such intensity that it almost felt like she had somehow foreseen the end of the world.

"What?"

"Didn't you get the news?"

Peter frowned. "What news?"

"About the forty missing people? Who vanished right into thin air?"

" _What_? How can anyone disappear just like that?"

"Not anyone, Peter. Forty people. Just like that."

"Maybe it's some kidnapping case?"

"Yeah right. I don't think that's likely. There's more." She stepped closer. This time Peter didn't stop her. "Peter… Jessica, Kaine and Ben are _missing_!"

"Try contacting SHIELD."

"I did. They weren't with them. SHIELD's searching all over the planet. Not a trace."

"Again something fishy with that organization." Peter rolled his eyes. "I never seem to be able to trust them."

"SHIELD?"

"Yeah."

"But there's something else. Something else has been in my head for quite some time now."

Peter folded his arms. "What?"

"It's something like… I don't know. I can't exactly say what. But it's that…" she sighed, "I've been seeing these dreams. And believe me Pete, these aren't good dreams. They keep me awake for hours. And it _feels_ so _real_!"

"What kind of dreams Cindy?"

She shook her head slightly. "It's like we're being hunted, Peter. You, I… and it's like there are many more somewhere out there, hunted, _killed_. These are just vibes I've been getting, Peter. It's like… something's wrong with the… _thread_ that connects us all."

Peter leaned forward, liking this less and less. He wanted to believe her, but didn't know just how. " _Thread_?"

"I don't know Peter… I just don't. It's just like I'm having this feeling that something terrible's coming. Something _big_ and _wrong_ is going to happen to us. It's a feeling, and you know how it is when I have such feelings."

Her last words sent a chill down Peter's spine.

 _You know how it is when I have such feelings_.

When she had such feelings, they usually turned out to be true.

Peter licked his lips.

"Let's go talk over coffee," he said.

* * *

 **The Spectacular Spider-Man and The Amazing Spider-Man are new entries here. I tried to write their scenes in such a way that even if you haven't watched their stories before, you would understand. Yet, if I haven't been successful in that aspect, if you still find their background clear, let me know in a comment/review. I'll try explaining them again in the next chapter.**

 **This chapter was so difficult to write because it deals with the characters' emotions totally. I had to get inside the head of each and everyone of these characters. You might have found it slow, but sometimes you have to slow down the story in order to gain pace.**

 **Was this chapter boring? Hope it wasn't. Feel free to let me know. There might have been a few typos (shouldn't be). I'll check them out later.**

 **Did you enjoy it as much as the other chapters? Hope you did.**

 **That being said, I hope you enjoyed it. Let me know, please. I have to get off with my anxiety. I've been sitting before the computer for so long that my back hurts, my neck hurts, my head hurts, my eyes hurt, my legs hurt... damn... I'm having aches due to bad posture...**

 **Huge thanks to everyone who have reviewed till now. Please don't mind if I don't mention your names. I'm trying to shorten the author's notes, otherwise it increases the word count you see in your notification or at the top of the story.**

 **However, I'll be replying to Guest Reviews here, and to them who I've been unable to reply back through PM.**

 **To,**

 **Insert Name Here : Thank you for agreeing to stick with the story. Hope you liked the Spectacular Spider-Man here, although we've seen him angrier here than he was shown in the TV series. It was such a great show!**

 **Shahzamaan Khan : Thanks a lot for agreeing to continue reading till the end! It helps me preserve my will to write.**

 **Guest (as on 22.02.19) : Thanks! Much appreciated!**

 **Jason Hunter : Absolutely. He'll be here in the story.**

 **Guest (as on 03.03.19) : Happy to hear!**

 **Yes yes cries, I am lovin it, Guest (as on 05.03.19), I love it, I cri, Someone, Guest (as on 10.03.19), Tech : All your reviews took my inspiration to a whole new height. Thank you so much! I hope I've done alright in this chapter. Do comment!**

 **MatoNator : Thanks! Glad you liked the combat scenes. It's difficult to write combat scenes. Yeah, maybe I should have shown the police cars. I'll see if I can still do anything later. ****I get it, about the confusion about the multiple spider-people. That is why I've mentioned in brackets here about which universe is the home to which spider. Hope it's alright now, let me know...**

 **Guest (as on 11.03.19 and 22.04.19) : Yes, absolutely!**

 **SpiderGwen24 : I'm glad this is somewhat up to what you wanted. Thanks! I'll try to maintain the quality.**

 **Guest (as on 20.03.19) : Miles and Gwen's romance is important here, along with other important plot points. We've all heard about the Spider-Gwen spin-off and the characters that may be involved. Although that might not be covered here (it might be too, can't tell right now) I have mentioned some names at the end, haven't I? Now see what _I_ did here!**

 **Gambit127 : You seem to have kept your PM feature switched off. So I couldn't reply before. I'm happy you are liking it this far. And you mentioned** **it's your birthday? Well, I wish you a very Happy Birthday! Hope you liked this alright.**

 **Guest (as on 23.03.19 ): One of those Spideys _might_ turn up here. Can't tell now, or else I'll be revealing spoilers. About the others, well, it might not be possible in this story, because it's already plotted out. Let's see, if, by any chance I think of a sequel, let's see... Also, you're welcome!**

 **Guest Viewer : Thanks! At this moment, I can't say anything. I guess you just have to read on!**

 **Jinxsfuneral : Thanks. But I'll have this story is not only about Miles and Gwen... I'll be focusing on more...**

 **Guest (as on 29.03.19) : Thanks! I hope you liked this one.**

 **Enslave The Mollusk : Couldn't reply to you through PM. I get it. Gwen must have already felt Miles' feelings. That's what I showed here. Hope you liked it. And thanks! I will surely keep on writing!**

 **cashmoneyflow : Thanks a lot! I don't think Miles is the kind of person who'll web up Harry, not if he thinks Gwen is with him. But I get it.**

 **Hopefully I've replied to all of you.**

 **And don't worry. The story will go on. Even though it takes time.**

* * *

 **I'll be keeping my computer aside for a few days. My exams are still not over. But if everything is according to what I plan, if everything goes alright, then from after April, the updates should get _hopefully_ faster and regular!**

 **See you all next time, and do let me know what you think in a review.**


	6. The Bride

**Chapter 6: The Bride**

 **Earth-1610**

Everything seemed to have disappeared around him. Everything. The store. Its people. The warmth of the heaters. The sound of the rain outside. Everything. Miles once again found himself in a state of panic. His eyes were once again locked onto those ocean blue of hers. She was a little taller than he last remembered seeing her. Her hair was longer. And she looked older. Time and time again Miles only noticed that. But for a second he had thought, _how did she get in here?_ And for a moment he had almost forgotten everything else. Everyone else. His misery had vanished and he almost jumped in joy, the same way he had when the Gwen he knew appeared through the portal in his dorm one night, but his feet were fixed to the ground now and everything clicked back into place and made sense in no time.

There could be only one reason why this woman looked so much like Gwen. And maybe this was the reason he and Ganke _were_ here.

Miles had wondered a lot about her. He had often wondered if a Gwen ever existed in his universe, and if he would forget his friendship with the other Gwen.

Bitter truth: nope.

"Do I know you?" the Gwen standing before him asked.

Miles looked down at his feet, tearing the lock that fixed his eyes to hers.

"No," he said, "Sorry. I had a friend who looked exactly like you."

It was then that he noticed that the colour from her face had almost drained, but now it was returning.

"Oh, that's alright," she said. She smiled. "But you actually got my name right, if you must know." Her face turned doubtful as she looked at him.

Miles gulped. "Did I?" She nodded. "I guess... coincidences do occur at times, don't they?"

She shrugged. "Maybe." Her features relaxed. "What's your name, young man?"

 _Young man_... Miles tried guessing how old she could be. Surely not above thirty! Maybe twenty-seven, twenty-eight? He tried to get a proper look at her and found her eyebrows raised. "Uh, it's Miles," he managed. "Miles Morales. I'm sure we haven't met."

She nodded, her eyes lost in deep thought. Then she seemed to force a smile. "OKay. But I don't go by Gwen anymore. I'd prefer if you called me 'Max'."

"Max?"

"As in Maxine. I sort of don't like my first name. Gwen Maxine. Just, remove the 'Gwen' part. Otherwise it does fine."

"Oh, okay." Miles had no idea why she was being so friendly. In his experience, nobody gave away their name so early to a stranger. Be it a child or an old man.

Then he glanced at the can of peanut butter in her hand. And it was then that he realized that she was no stranger to him. He could have been one to her, but he knew a lot about her. Peanut butter. Gwen's all time favorite.

Suddenly he had an urge to run. He just couldn't stay here anymore. He was doing just great until now. Another Gwen was the last thing he wanted to see right now.

He slowly turned and headed for the door. He heard Ganke call out to him from behind and then he ran, pulled open the door, and dived into the rain.

There were very few street lights around him. And even if there had been any more, Miles couldn't have seen the road any better because the rain was very strong. Water got into his eyes, blinding him for a moment. But he didn't cease walking. He trudged onto the pavement, careful not to slip, and walked along as fast as he could. Alone.

That was his mistake.

They were not waiting too far from the store. In fact, had it been a dry evening, Miles could have seen that they were much closer, waiting to pounce on anybody they came across, just between the next building and the one to its next.

There were three of them. They stepped out of the shadows, face-to-face with him.

Right then two things happened.

Even in the sound of the rain, Miles heard the store door open and Ganke sprint over to him. One of the men swung his arm in an arc with a club at had to make a quick decision. He could avoid the club by crouching down, or bowing down, or whatever, but then Ganke was so close to him that it would go on to hit him right in the side of the face. And that force could knock him down.

Right now his mind worked up only one solution. He didn't bend down. Nor did he just stand there doing nothing. Miles turned so that his right outer side faced the man and brought up his right arm as if to hit the man back.

It made contact with the club, and there was a splitting sound and the club broke in two. One half remained in the man's hand, while the other went flying and bounced off the wall behind Miles.

He looked at the broken piece of the club now. It was even more lethal. Jagged pieces jutted out and could pierce into the skin of the victim. Before even the man's arm completed the arc, Miles lashed out at him with his other hand. His hand hit the man straight in the soft part of his arm, and the wooden piece jumped out of his grasp.

Miles stepped back, pushing Ganke along, while the man crawled on the floor, cradling his injured arm. He was sure he had broken it somehow, and that meant more trouble. More trouble because it wasn't usually very nice when you broke somebody's arm when his two best friends stood next to him. Either they would back off, or they would take care of their friend and charge at you. These people didn't back off. And that only meant one thing.

Usually he wouldn't have worried about them. They looked like regular robbers. He could see the golden watch dangling loosely from one of the men's wrists. The piece of gold necklace that hung from the neck of the other. Their pockets were swollen, indicating the presence of a number of things those pockets were not meant to hold.

And then the two remaining robbers stepped into the light and Miles realized one of them was a woman. The one with the gold necklace. She was wearing a hood. And she held a knife in her left hand.

She took another step forward and gestured with her hand towards them. Like she was summoning them. A gesture asking them for their belongings.

Miles and Ganke stared.

"Hand over your phone," the woman shouted above the noise of the rain at Ganke.

Ganke took one glance at Miles and shook his head. "I'm sorry, I ca-can't." And then as if he just realized something (Miles knew what he realized- _Hey, I'm with Spider-Man, what have I got to fear petty thieves?_ ), he motioned towards Miles. "Ask him!"

Miles looked at Ganke, astonished. Ganke gave an innocent look and turned back to the woman.

Miles calculated. He had to get out of here without giving himself away. He couldn't just run and jump around and go on breaking impossoble things, showcasing his powers. He'd already committed a mistake. He shouldn't have let the club embrace him. Had it been anyone else, it would not have been the club that snapped in two, it would have been the victim. And that led Miles to wonder. Had this people come to kill them?

When Ganke hesitated further, the woman made her move. She lurched forward, knife pointed downward and brought her hand down on Ganke.

Miles reached out to stop her, but she was too strong. With a swipe of her hand, she sent Miles flying to his side. And then all of her interest was on Miles, and not on Ganke anymore. She swung her foot hard towards him, and he had to push himself on the floor away from her. He got up just in time to avoid the knife rush past his eye.

"How are you so fast?" the woman muttered as she struck out with her other hand. She was so quick that he couldn't even react to his spider-sense warning him. Her hand hit him square in the jaw and for a moment he wondered if she had dislocated it. And while he was examining it, he felt her once again, all of a sudden, behind him, and sensed something approaching him at great speed.

He swerved to his left, to avoid what he discovered to be the knife, but he wasn't fast enough and the blade grazed his arm, causing a slight, sudden burn.

The woman grasped at him and brought down her knife again.

This time Miles didn't hesitate.

He pulled down, and did a back flip. He had almost twisted the woman's arm, had she not realized his trick and pulled her hand away. Then Miles lashed out at her hand, at the underside of her wrist with so much force that the knife actually bounced off her hand. The man tried to smack him on the forehead, but Miles had caught his fist in his own. A shattering and a cracking sound followed, and the man jerked away crying in pain as the impact broke his hand.

Just like Miles remembered reading in the comics about Spider-Man.

The woman, she wouldn't back away so soon.

But she let him go and now both of them faced each other, ready to pounce, drenched in the rain, tired, gasping for air.

And then he had an idea.

He turned to Ganke and waved with his hand. "Go," he said, "Go ahead, I'll be there." They could go back into the store, but Miles didn't want to waste another second here. And he was much less worried about the robbers than meeting this universe's version of Gwen again.

Ganke stood there, his mouth agape.

Miles lost his patience shouted, " _Go_!"

Ganke nodded and dashed forward, towards the intersection and took his left.

Miles turned back to the woman.

"Who are you?" he asked her.

She cocked her head to the side, but didn't reply. She just stared at him.

Something about her face disturbed Miles. She looked familiar. He wasn't sure, but she did look like someone he knew very well. Or maybe someone once he knew very well. From somewhere. He just couldn't place where.

He took a step back. And waited. The woman waited and took a step towards him. Miles took another step back and the woman took another step towards him. Then she nodded at someone behind him.

Miles turned around. The man who had broken his own arm (for that was how Miles liked to think of it), and the man from before were both gone. Just a few seconds ago they were there and now they were gone. And he didn't even hear them.

And that was his mistake. He shouldn't have turned around.

The woman took her cue. The clenched fist struck Miles right at the upper abdomen, and he felt his breath knocked out. He bent down, clasping at his abdomen, when the lady stroke him in the side of the face with her foot. It was like being hit by an iron.

But he had to do his trick. Miles collected himself in split second just to avoid her push her knife into his ribs.

He held the woman tight by her wrist and tensed his muscles. But this was not part of the plan.

Somewhere deep inside him, something ignited. His body was on fire, but he welcomed it. The heat coursed through his veins, his muscles, every tissue in his body and then flowed through his arms and through his wrists, palms, and then towards his finger tips.

The woman jerked, like she was being hit by thousands of volts of lightening. The more Miles clenched his teeth, the more he released his anger, the stronger it got. But he had to keep it under control. One second of break in his concentration, and it would stop.

He zapped her until something in his mind said "stop". If he continued any further, he would kill her. He pulled away his hands and the next thing he saw was the woman collapsed. He crouched down, holding his abdomen, panting.

And then the woman stirred. Miles looked at her, unable to believe his won eyes. Usually when he zapped someone, he or she would actually black out for sometime.

Before the lady could get up, he backed away quietly and tried to calm down. He turned away and fled.

Had somebody else been out there looking at the commotion, he would have been astounded, for once a boy stood at a spot, and immediately the next second, he was nowhere to be seen.

Far at the intersection, Miles Morales peeped from the corner of a building. An ordinary human being would not have been able to see through this heavy rain, but Miles was different. He was not ordinary. Yet, even through his enhanced senses, the spot where the woman had laid, injured, stirring in oblivion, was empty.

She was gone.

* * *

 _Let me introduce myself one last time._

 _My name is Cindy Moon. I enjoy sports, especially hockey. I've got what you can call an eidetic memory, or in other words, a photographic memory._

 _There was once a time when my family was very proud of my talent: my knack for remembering things very easily. On a school trip, I was bitten by a radio-active spider, the one same as that bit your favorite hero, granting me incredible, arachnid-like powers. My family freaked out at my new abilities, and to be honest, I'd gone insane too. I wasn't actually very happy with my powers, for I didn't have the proper control over them._

 _Then one day, a man named Ezekiel Sims arrived at my doorstep, and offered to teach me to control my abilities, claiming he himself wasn't much different from me. I was happy about it, but then it came with a price._

 _I was taught to have the proper command I needed over my powers, but I was locked in a bunker, and was supposed to live there for ever. Ezekiel had said the outside world wasn't much safe for me, that I needed to stay hidden if I wanted the world I lived in to survive. If I wanted to survive._

 _I stayed there for ten years, when one sudden day, Spider-Man broke in and freed me. Because we were bitten by the same spider, I guess it brought the two of us very close. I mean, very very close. Emotionally and physically._

 _We figured out a way to stop screwing each other up, and I moved on in my own. Today I find myself pouring my mind for the Fact Channel, where I work, and when I don't, I roam about, all suited up, which I have been doing, for the last twelve years, alongside Spider-Man, and now usually on my own._

 _I call myself Silk._

 _I'd waited five years for something to happen, just like Ezekiel had said, but nothing did. So when I met him one fine day, I gave him a nice talking-to._

 _I regret that now._

 _Because I know something is out there, or someone, and is coming for me._

 _I don't know._

 _And I am scared._

* * *

 **Earth-616**

Peter B. Parker finished his story with the final bite of his mushroom pizza. End of story. End of pizza.

"It'll work out at the end, you know?" she said.

"What?" Peter said, "My belly?"

"No, MJ."

Peter sighed. "No. It won't. I don't think it will. It's a dead end. I thought it wasn't, but it is."

"But if she started talking to you, she came out to dine with you, how can it _not_ be possible?"

Peter shook his head. "The whole thing's a _no-no_ , Cindy. From her."

"But she didn't outright reject, right? She said she needed to think."

"She said she needed to be alone. That means she wants to stay the way she does, no."

"Come on Peter. Don't be so paranoid!"

"I don't know," said Peter, rubbing his eyes. "It doesn't look it'll work. That's all for films. The boy commits a thousand mistakes, humiliates his girlfriend, kisses another woman before her, but at the end, she forgives him and they lead a happy ever-after life. That's _too dramatic_ , Cindy. It only happens in movies."

"It may. But anything can happen in reality."

"I doubt."

Cindy stopped herself from talking any further, because she realized it didn't do any good. Instead, she decided it was better they got back on track.

"Now about the dreams…" she said.

"Yeah, I forgot. What about them?"

"They feel real, you know?"

Peter took a sip of water from his glass. "They are real. If you have that kind of a feeling, and you talk about people from other worlds, other _spider people_ like us, then there's a huge problem it is for _sure_ real."

"How are you so sure?"

He sighed. "Long story."

"Well, we've got some time."

"Well, okay. But firstly there's something else that's bothering me, Cindy."

"What?"

"It's the reason you were locked in that bunker for ten years."

Cindy tensed. Usually she avoided talking about it. Usually if Peter would bring up that topic, she would make an excuse and walk away. Because those ten years were worse than hell to her. But right now she didn't walk away. She waited for Peter to talk.

"What of it?" she asked.

"I told you once that Ezekiel had come after me with the same offer. But I'd declined. Do you exactly remember what he'd said?"

Cindy nodded. "That the outside world is not safe for me. That he'd teach me how to control my powers but in return I'd have to promise to stay in that bunker for the rest of my life otherwise something very catastrophic was going to happen which would wipe out the whole human race and kill me."

"Wipe out the whole human race?"

"Yeah."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I remember word-for-word."

Peter shook his head and leaned forward. "Well, he'd said to me that if I stayed outside, for long, something _might_ happen that could kill me. You notice that? The difference?"

"Yeah. He told you about your safety, while he told me about mine and the safety of the entire human race."

Peter raised his eyebrows. "And?"

"And what?"

"He told you 'would'. He told me 'maybe'. That means in your case, he was certain of it. But in my case, he wasn't."

"Peter, it might just be some misuse of words."

Peter shook his head. "Tell me. When he offered you, did you refuse?"

Cindy relaxed against the back-rest of her chair. "Yeah, I did."

"How many times?"

"I'd met him for two weeks and I'd refused for two weeks straight."

"And?"

She shrugged. "And what? He was as adamant as ever. The way he just is. He wouldn't listen. And at last, _I_ was forced to listen."

Peter considered. "I know for one that Ezekiel Sims isn't an adamant man. He is very calculating, sure, but he isn't adamant." He smiled. "At least not with me. Get the point?"

"Some of it, yeah."

"What?"

"That he cared more about me, maybe?"

Peter rolled his eyes and sighed. "Yeah maybe. But why? He hardly even knew you before that. He knew you as much as he knew me. Until… you were friends from before?"

"We weren't."

"In that case… well in that case, I'm right."

"How are you right, Peter? I don't see it."

"Because I straight away declined the offer. I'd said _no_ only once and he listened at once. He just asked me if I was sure, and I said yes, and then he left. And he was certain that if you were out in the open, it would be something bad. But if I were out, he wasn't sure. It was just a possibility. In your case, according to him, it appeared to be a certainty.

"And tell me, Cindy. Did he exactly tell you what the danger was?"

"No."

"The lesser you knew, the better, right?"

"You mean he was hiding something?"

"He sure was."

"But why would he keep it from me?"

"I don't know. Maybe because it was actually gross. When I'd heard it, it was ridiculous. But then what you told me at the grave today made me think otherwise."

"What did he say?"

"Did he ever mention about a group of people who feed on people like us? Enhanced? With spider abilities?"

She shook her head. "He only said that there were entities out there who could sense me until and unless I was inside my bunker. It was some kind of a shield. Nothing about _feeding_ off of us." She paused, her eyes wide with disbelief. "You think it's them?"

Peter nodded. "Kaine, Jessica, Ben. You said they've disappeared. And they all got-"

"They're like us."

"Precisely."

"But why haven't they come after us?"

Peter squared his shoulders very slowly, lost in thought. "I don't know. They might be right now, this very moment."

Cindy shuddered. "And what about that long story of yours?" she suddenly asked.

By now Peter had finished half of his new pizza, and he suddenly realized that he couldn't eat anymore. No. No. He _did_ have the potential to eat much more, but suddenly he felt like he couldn't. He realized he was a little stressed.

"You remember the singularity in the sky last year, Cindy?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I'd set about trying to look into it myself."

"But you came up with nothing."

"Nope."

"Well, that whole event was me."

" _You_?"

"I mean, not me alone. But me. Other versions of me."

"You're not making sense."

Peter leaned forward and so did Cindy.

He said, "Two months ago - last year - I was sucked into a vortex in my wall. A portal, and landed up in another dimension. Now do you… have you heard of the theory of… _hypothesis_ of parallel dimensions? Alternate universes?"

"Yeah, that's sci-fi."

"Well, it's real. I'd ended up in a world exactly like ours, with a Peter Parker exactly like me, an MJ exactly like mine. You get it?"

Cindy laughed. "Well, that's something…"

"You don't believe me? What do you think that thing in the sky was?"

"No, no. I believe you. Like, I've got to, right? The world's getting crazier every day."

She was about to say something else, when she stopped. She looked as if she had seen a ghost all of a sudden, and she sat there, lost in thought.

Peter furrowed his eyebrows. He looked around. For a moment, everything around him disappeared, and he was left there sitting in space. He closed his eyes, and thought of what he was about to do. He had a bad feeling whoever those man-eating monsters were, they weren't that far. Their time had come. When he had gotten Cindy out of her bunker, nothing had happened. They'd thought this Ezekiel was a crazy old man. And he had felt the impact of Cindy's slaps when she'd met him five years later. And now they were sitting here, wondering if Ezikiel had been right all along.

Cindy pulled out a wad of cash and placed it on their table. She stood up.

" _What_ are you doing?" Peter asked, befuddled.

"Paying," Cindy said.

"Wait, I've got to pay my sha-"

"We don't have time for that. I've paid for yours too."

"But you don't even know the bills…"

"There might be more than the bills show, but not less. Consider it a tip, but we've got to get out of here!" She tugged at Peter's hand.

"But Cindy what happened?" said Peter as he reluctantly followed her out.

"He'll be here, and he'll throw a car into the restaurant."

"Into the restaurant? Through the glass wall?"

"Yeah."

"Not again!"

"What do you mean?"

"I'll explain you later."

A car was sent rolling towards the restaurant. A loud shatter erupted as it crashed inward and screams from the people inside the restaurant followed.

Peter turned to go to change into his costume, but when he turned around, Cindy was already wrapped in her silky webs.

Peter sprinted towards the alley that led to the back of the restaurant and undid the upper button of his shirt as he leaped at the wall and charged for the terrace.

* * *

 **Elsewhere…**

The air was so cold that he could see his breath freeze just as he exhaled. People he saw outside were shivering while they were staggering home. The cold came all of a sudden. He was thankful he had his over-coat on. As a matter of fact, he always had his coat on. Be it in the summer, or in the winter. Whatever. And so did the others. His siblings.

Having a height of eight and a half feet had its advantages, and also its disadvantages. While the advantages were many, the disadvantages were but few. Right now, the tall entrance to the foyer stood just two or three inches above him, and so he didn't need to bend his head. Thankfully. But sometimes, in any other building, he had to crouch, almost crawl, to avoid colliding with the wall above the doorway.

Because of his height, and because of his muscular bulk, he really didn't care about the heat much. He had taught himself not to. Added to that, injury came to him very rare. And because of his stature, he felt he had a good command over his younger siblings. Well, except maybe one.

When he entered the dinner hall, they were already seated at the table. The twins had arrived before he did. The girl, Bora was seated at the opposite end of the table, far opposite the chair of the head, and her brother, Brix, to her right. Verna sat nearest to him, right beside the place for the family's head, which, in the absence of their father, was him, though he never used it. And he wouldn't, not until he got the proper declaration.

His name was Daemos, and he was the oldest among the many children of that house. And the biggest, both literally, and figuratively in view of age.

"Brother," Verna said and stood up.

He liked Verna, perhaps the best. She was the third eldest, and perhaps the voice of reason in the family. After their long-dead mother. She she was one among the only two who respected him the way he deserved to be respected.

Daemos nodded. "Sit down," he said, and looked ahead at the twins who sat there, bored, yet staring at him. He then shifted his vision back to Verna. "What's the urgent matter you called for?"

She almost jumped about excitedly. She was having a hard time concealing the relief and the smile from her face. "Jennix, Brother. He's found the Scions. And the Bride. And one of the Others."

Daemos pulled out the chair opposite her, sat down and nodded again. "Sit down, Verna," he said, to which she obliged. He sighed just as if his thirst had just been quenched.

It was then that he had noticed the absence. "Where is Morlun?" he asked, his temper already rising.

"Brother," she said, looking up at him slowly, "Brother Morlun's off on his own. To Earth-616. To get the Bride"

Daemos swore. "Didn't you stop him?"

"He wouldn't listen."

" _Nasty fool_. What does he think of himself? That he'll be able to take on them on his own?"

"It'll be difficult," Bora said.

" _Difficult_?" Daemos mumbled, "Is he so overcome with pride being our father's favorite? If so Solus _is a fool_!"

"Brother!" Verna said, her eyes pleading, "A father may be many things. But he is not a fool. And I beg of you, please, don't call him by the name. You are our eldest. At least you follow the rules of the house!"

Daemos looked away, the fire blazing in his eyes, as high as his temper. He turned to the twins. "Brix. You and Verna. You two will go get one of the Scions. Me and Bora will get the other."

"Sure Brother," Bora said, "But before that, we all have one more thing to do. One more place to go."

* * *

 **Earth-616**

The thrower of the car silently strode out of the flames and the smoke around him. Before even his form appeared into the light, the red glow of his eyes peered through the dust and soot and the dark, heavy smoke.

A thin figure appeared after brightly polished shoes stepped out into the lighted gravel. Stripped trousers leading up to a white shirt tucked in followed. The collars around the neck were raised, Beethoven style. A purple coat hung round and down to the knees.

Finally the face appeared. A pale face, prominent cheekbones and thin, red demonic eyes stood above that thin neck. Long dark hair brushed backward which reached down to the bottom of the neck flowed down from the skull which stood more than six feet high. The man had a tall forehead and the front part almost made him look balding.

When he moved, the air seemed to move along with him. Police cars screeched to a stop all around him, and police officers shouted at him to freeze, but he didn't even seem to notice them. His eyes were fixed straight, hypnotically at Spider-Man and Silk, who stood transfixed, thirteen meters from him.

"Freeze!" an officer shouted, "Hands behind your head! Stay where you are!"

The man stopped when he was just five meters away, but he didn't raise his arms. Two policemen edged nearer to him, one of them with handcuffs, the other pointing his gun. The rest of the surrounding officers stood behind their car doors, ready to open fire.

The two policemen stopped next to him. The one with the cuffs took hold of the man, and just when he was about to put the cuffs on, the man grasped the officer in return and twisted his hand. The officer screamed in pain, and the scream never ended. It wouldn't till his life came to an end.

The man put his other hand on top of the officers head and opened his mouth wide.

Something peculiar happened. Flame-like light erupted from the dying man's body, and yellowish smoke curled out and into the stranger's mouth. At the same time, the other officer shot the man in the head, but the bullet seemed to burn even before it neared the man. The rest of the police crew opened fire, and some of the bullets even punctured into the man. But he didn't even flinch.

The dying police man's body thinned down and wrinkled and withered till it was just a heap of human skin and the flames stopped coming out of his body. The stranger let go of the human heap and with a single hand, crushed the other officer's face.

This was over in just a matter of five seconds.

The man turned to the rest of the police cars around him, and strode with murderous determination. Bullets entered his front and exited from his back, blood splitting here and there. Nothing happened. The man didn't slow down.

Back to their senses, Spider-Man and Silk made their move. Spidey sprinted from one car to the next, spraying his webs at the man, trying to stop him, trying to slow him down. The man grabbed at the webbed net and pulled, lashing out with his foot at Spider-Man.

Silk came flying at him from behind, and pounced.

"Ahh, the Bride!" the man exclaimed, and grasped her by the neck.

Spider-Man got up and leaped at him. "Sorry, but who do you plan to marry?" He aimed a punch at the man, and jabbed him square in the face. The man didn't even move.

"Is that what all you've got, Spider-Man?" he said, "I thought you were stronger. You were _supposed_ to be stronger."

"I have a bad habit of holding back," retorted Spidey, trying to free Silk.

The man kicked away Spider-Man and flung Silk at him as if she were just a cotton toy.

Spider-Man gasped as he supported himself up.

"Cindy," he whispered, "Are you alright?"

She groaned. "He was trying to choke me," she muttered.

"Better than him trying to marry you, at least." He helped her up.

The man strode closer to them. "We got on the wrong foot," he said. "Bad start. I think introductions would have been better. But the fact is-" he raised his finger at them "-I know both of you. I know all about you two. But you don't know who I am."

Spider-Man looked around. "Uh, Shakespeare in the park?"

Silk nudged him. "That's not even your line, Peter."

Spidey shrugged. " _What_? He does have long hair and old fashioned clothes, doesn't he?"

"I'm not Shakespeare," the man said aloud.

"Yeah, he doesn't write ballads and plays." The voice was unexpected. Spider-Man and Silk hadn't felt it. Just then, something stranger happened. Right in front of them, the man's gaze shifted past them. Even in this scorching heat and bright daylight, the street around them reflected a purplish light and a gust of cold air. A whooshing sound occurred behind them, followed by the tap of footsteps.

Spider-Man turned around. Silk followed.

Standing now in front of them were four people, or rather, three humans, and one pig, all dressed in red and blue- costumes resembling that of Spider-Man's.

Peter recognized one of them anyway- the pig. It was unmistakable.

"Ham?" he called out loud.

"Hiya Benjamin," greeted back Spider-Ham, but behind his friendly voice, hidden, was a disturbed, angry and fearful tint. "Long time no see."

Peter nodded. "Glad to see you." He turned to the other three. One of them was dressed all over in what looked like blackish-blue, something akin to a skull and also a spider, painted in red across his chest. His mask had no eyes, but had what looked like holes for it, amid patterns sprawled over. The one to his right dressed very much like Peter himself, but his costume had, at parts, white painted all over, and the spider insignia was a large whit-colored one. The man donned overall a very sporty look. Again to his right, the final one, dressed exactly like Peter's costume, large eyes for the mask. This one looked taller than the others, and his costume was very shiny.

Peter understood who they were.

"Parallel dimensions?" he asked.

The tall one nodded. "Trust me," he said, it's all very strange to me as it is to you right now.

Peter B. Parker, in his own costume, shook his head. "I know the ham."

Silk shook him by the shoulder. "Peter, what's happening? Who are they, and why are they dressed like you?"

Spider-Man turned to her. "I told you. Singularity in the sky. Two months back. Last year? Me? It was me? Well, these _are_ me, you know?"

Spider-Man 2099 cleared his throat. "Let's not forget him," he said, pointing behind Peter at the stranger.

"Oh," Peter said, "As far as I know, he wants to marry Silk here."

"Who's Silk?" the Amazing Spider-Man of Earth-120703 asked.

"This girl beside me. I mean, this _woman_ beside me."

"Alright," Spider-Ham said, "Let's deal with this guy first."

All heads were turned back to the stranger, who just stood glaring at all of them hungrily. "Snacks," he said and smiled, licking his lips, showing pointed canines.

"Uh, did he just say, 'snacks'?" Silk asked.

"Apparently he wants to marry you _and_ eat you," Peter B. Parker said. "Who are you?" he asked out loud.

The man took a step forward slowly while the spiders embraced. "My name is Morlun, and I come from the Loomworld to feed on you, and take _her_." He pointed a finger at Silk.

"O'Hara?" Spider-Man of Earth 1048 said from behind, "Maybe it's the best time you opened it."

"Right."

Once again the air behind them swirled and a portal opened up.

"Peter you've got to come with us," Miguel said. "This man is here to _kill_ you." He hadn't finished when the man started running towards them.

"Looks like he wants to come with us too!" the Amazing Spider-Man said.

"When I say duck," Spider-Man 1048 said, "Duck."

Morlun's fist had already come too close by now. Silk swerved to the right to avoid him. Peter B. swerved to the left to avoid him. The Amazing Spider-Man leaped up and with his feet bounced off the man. Spider-Man 1048 struck out with his webs and pulled at Morlun's hands. Miguel slid down and lashed out with his feet to unbalance him.

"We can't hold him much longer," Miguel said.

"I know _all_ about your tricks, little spider!" shouted Morlun as he fell face first on the gravel road, but before his torso came into contact with the ground, he pushed himself up with his fists, and with hands as hard as iron, jabbed Miguel across the jaw.

The Amazing Spider-Man got up behind him and crawled up to his shoulders. "On behalf of _real_ vampires, I suggest you only come out at night, Mr. Morlun." Morlun shook himself, and took hold of his leg, and thrashed him to the ground.

"Cindy you stay away," Peter B. called out. With that he shot out his webs at Morlun, aiming to blindfold him, and pulled down hard and punched up. Peter felt he had fractured his knuckles and wrist. With his other hand, he kept on boxing at Morlun's face, this time not holding back much.

"Don't hold back at all," Miguel shouted out. "But it won't help!" He gasped as he drove his foot at Morlun's abdomen with as much force as possible. The only consequence was the man staggering back a few steps, but other than that, nothing.

"Where. Is. Miles?" Spider-Man 1048 screamed as one after another, he kept on striking with everything he had.

" _Miles_?" Peter B. Parker said. "What happened to _Miles_?"

"How do you know Miles?"

"I know Miles _very_ nicely."

"Well, he's lost."

"He's lost? HOW CAN HE BE LOST?"

"I DON'T KNOW. I HAVE THE SAME QUESTION."

"THE LAST TIME I FACED HIM, HE WANTED TO EAT ME AS PORK. BE CAREFUL, PETER. STAY AWAY FROM HIS SNOUTS!"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE ATE YOU AS PORK? HE ATE MILES TOO, HAM?"

"THE MILES _YOU_ ARE TALKING ABOUT AND THE MILES _HE_ IS TALKING ABOUT ARE TOTALLY DIFFERENT! HE HAD A MILES BACK HOME TOO!"

"HUFF, THAT'S A RELIEF!"

"IT'S _NOT_ A RELIEF!"

"EVERYONE SHUT UP, WE'VE GOT TO GET THROUGH THAT PORTAL, NOW!"

"OKAY SORRY IT'S NOT A RELIEF, BUT WHERE IS HE?"

"THAT'S. THE. QUESTION. ISN'T. IT?"

"IS HE SPIDER-MAN TOO?"

"HE WAS ON HIS WAY!"

"MINE WAS!"

"THEN WHERE IS HE?"

"HE'S NOT FROM THIS UNIVERSE, SPIDEY!"

"OKAY!" Miguel screamed. He looked around him. Everyone of them was on the ground now. The only one standing was Morlun himself. Spider-Man of this Earth lay on top of a car, a dent formed on its hood. The Amazing Spider-Man was sent plunging into a grocery shop, a huge hole the size of a man on the glass showcase. Spider-Man 1048 lay beside a street lamp, the street lamp in itself uprooted and broken ten feet from him. Spider-Ham was sprawled inside his own triple-sized frying pan. The woman called Silk lay face down on the sidewalk near Miguel, who was now helping himself off the broken shards of glass. He sighed. _I had_ not _imagined this is how it would go when all the Peters met_.

He reached for Silk. "Hey lady," he nudged her by the elbow, "can you get up?"

Time was running out. Morlun slowly and leisurely strode towards them, confidence in every step.

"Hey lady, Silk! Get up! Get up!"

Silk stirred. She lifted her head to find herself facing the approaching polished leather shoes of their assailant.

"Get up, lady!" Miguel helped her to her feet, and now they both stood facing the monster-like man who was just a few steps away.

Morlun bent down to pick her up. "Come to Papa," he smiled. Before Miguel could react, he swung his hand at him, brushing him aside with brutal force.

"What will you get by killing me?" Silk asked.

"Oh no," the man replied, lifting her such that her feet were no longer in contact with the ground. "I won't kill you. You're important. You're essential."

"Let me go!" Silk groaned, kicking her legs. His grip on her throat tightened and she neared the point of passing out.

And then it all happened.

At first, there was the familiar _thwip_ of web fluid. Morlun shuddered and stiffened. He turned his head to look and was met with a hard _clang_ from Spider-Ham's huge frying pan. The Amazing Spider-Man catapulted himself and veered off towards the demon, lashing out with a strong fist at the pan which was already pressed at Morlun's face. He lost grip of Silk, and she fell down. Miguel got to his feet and ran around him, weaving his webs, making a thick wrapping. From somewhere, lasers started to fire around, and Cindy, to her dismay, saw a spider-shaped drone firing at the commotion, aimed at Morlun. Peter B. Parker let out an effort-full cry as he launched himself at Morlun, punching him once, punching his twice, at the waist, neck, back, ribs, wherever he found a clean shot. Spider-Man 1048 shot a web at Morlun and pulled, and when the man got closer, he was sent back instantly with double the speed, and Spider-Ham hit him from behind with his pan like a batsman hits the ball.

"What do you want huh?" someone said.

"She won't marry you."

"Where is Miles? Where is the boy?"

"You ain't eating me, and I ain't hot dog."

"On behalf of real vampires, wear a red cape!"

"YOU TALK TOO MUCH!" Morlun had had enough of being tossed around, and tore apart the webs that bound him.

Peter B. Parker was the first to come out of the circle. He dived, and taking Cindy along with him, went head-first into the portal.

Behind them, outside, Morlun had Ham by his head, and brought him closer to be consumed, when Spider-Man 1048 aimed and shot out his webs. At first, nothing seemed to happen, and then bolts of electricity passed through the webs like a wire, until the webs burned and Spider-Man had to let it go.

"Gaah…" Spider-Ham danced around on the ground, slipped from Morlun's grips. He turned to Spider-Man. " _You_ taser-webbed _me_?"

"Sorry," he said, "There was no other choice."

" _No other choice_?"

"Besides, I thought you could take it. I'd aimed it such that you got the least impact."

"Talk later boys, dive now!" the Amazing Spider-Man called.

Ham leaped into the portal, followed by Spider-man 1048. Amazing Spidey went next.

Miguel back-stepped. He selected his web shooters to from a harder form, and shot out at Morlun.

In the distraction that followed, Miguel carefully stepped into the swirling passage and then it closed, leaving back nothing.

* * *

 **Nueva York**

"What is this place?" it was Peter B. Parker's voice.

Perfect darkness surrounded them. Seeing one's own hands was impossible. Peter carefully, and very calculatingly put his steps ahead of him.

"This is my base," Miguel's voice answered. "My batcave. It's where I work."

"Cindy?" Peter called.

"I'm here."

A dim light turned on above them. A dim reddish light. Peter's eyes slowly adjusted to it and caught sight of all the others. Cindy stood to his left, nearest to him. By his right stood Ham, and behind him, the Spider-Man with the white logo. The tall Spider-Man stood behind Peter, and at the end was the bluish-black suited Spider.

"Something's not right," the tall Spider-Man said.

"Yeah," Cindy agreed. "I feel it too."

Peter B., who stood at the front, slowly stepped forward. Even he didn't like something in here. It just didn't feel right.

Ahead of him, row after row of dim red lights glowed, demonstrating a long corridor of endless machine parts and computer screens. To his far right, everything stood in the still darkness.

"O'Hara where are the others?" the Spider-Man with the white logo asked.

"Peni!" Miguel called out loud, then lowered his voice: "They were supposed to be here…"

Peter B. stopped. He turned around. "You mean to say Peni Parker… the girl with the robot spider is here too?" Miguel nodded. "How could you _leave_ her here?"

"This place is the safest you could ever find for them. Besides, she's not alone. Two other… _doppleganger_ s of yours lie here, alive but injured. Someone's got to stay and just be present, right? The girl is already scared off her wits. She almost got killed the last time she was out in the field. I didn't want to take the risk. And I don't know what this sense or _feeling_ you all are having. Had anyone been here, anyone else, the alarms would have gone right off." Miguel turned around. " _Lyla_! Lyla? Why isn't she answering?"

"It's because I had to disconnect her," spoke a small, scared voice from the darkness.

"Peni?" Peter B. called out. "Where are you?"

Silence. Nothing happened. Peter's spider-sense was kicking wild inside him. The silence was too loud and deafening. It was also too high-pitched.

"Don't move Peter," Peni Parker's young voice said slowly. "Otherwise they'll kill me. And the other two."

Miguel stepped forward and stopped and he felt Peter's hand on his thigh, knocking him to stop down.

"They who?" Miguel asked.

The voice was coming from their right. From the darkness.

A feverish yellow light turned on and grew stronger gradually to reveal five figures- five dangerous figures. At the front sat a huge and bulky, monster-sized man who looked very like the man they had just fought right now. Before him sat a woman with dark hair which reflected off the light. Her hair was tied tightly and wide behind her. Leaning on a desk beside them were a man and a woman, both strikingly similar looking, and dressed in red. Behind them, at the centre stood another strange-looking man who looked like he was just out of his work and was very annoyed about it, but now pleased, for he was smiling the most.

The huge man held Peni by her arms, while the man in red held Spider-Man 67 tightly against him, arm before his throat. The lady in red held a young-looking Peter Parker with a mole near his left eye in the same fashion.

The group had pale skin, and were all dressed old-style.

Miguel recognized the hulking demon. He recognized the twins. But the woman and the man at the last, were new. This led him to wonder: How many more of them were there? And how did they arrive here?

The five vampires smiled, looking menacing in the partial darkness.

The woman's gaze then shifted past the spiders.

"Well, I'm surprised," a voice said from behind. Peter B. and the rest were startled, and looking behind them, the very breath seemed to turn to ice in their nostrils.

Morlun was standing behind them, smiling, but there was some kind of admittance in his eyes.

"My bad," he said to his siblings.

Peter felt his heart skip.

They were trapped.

Morlun said, "Where do you think _you're_ going now?"

* * *

 **Thank you everyone for your reviews, follows, and favorites. Those were the only things that drove me forward to continuing.**

 **I'm grateful to every reader who have put forward their reviews, and would like to say thanks to** ** _MatoNator_** **,** ** _someguy_** **,** ** _guy69_** **,** ** _Insert Name Here_** **,** ** _Shahzamaan Khan_** **,** ** _guy3333_** **,** ** _Nino_** **and** ** _Joessy_** **among other Fan Fic members. Also, my thanks go out to the other guest reviewers.**

 **To** ** _Insert Name Here_** **,**

 **Yes, I did get your Spidey suggestions, but I've already plotted out the whole story with the fixed number of characters in mind. All of them haven't appeared yet, though. If I think of writing a future continuation of this story, let me see.**

* * *

 _ **Dear Readers,**_

 _ **It might look right now that I have given up writing about the romance between Miles and Gwen, but do keep it in mind: It is far from over. I'm just taking the time to throw the light on a few other characters before returning to them.**_

 _ **Also I'll admit that after a long absence, my writing might have gone down a little. I'll make up to it, and keep on editing and improving this chapter and the others wherever possible.**_


	7. The State of the Mind

**Finally, here it is, chapter 7, after six months delay...**

 **Assuming I still have readers left, I hope you like this. I thank everyone who has followed this chapter and added it to their list of favorite stories.**

 **This chapter is a mixture of drama, action, thoughts and conflicts, and has all the components and parts I have teased earlier. This is to tell you that now, slowly, after this chapter we are moving gradually into the main plot. Maybe from the next chapter, you'll get the taste of what this story is going to be like.**

 **Consider this chapter as the road to the highway.**

* * *

 **Chapter 7: The State of the Mind**

 _The sad fact about it being such a lovely day was that one Peter Parker wasn't going to live to see through it._

 _What was worse was that nobody would ever know. Nobody could._

 _Their hero would pass away quietly._

 _It was a different kind of pain._

 _The big man who called himself Daemos bit into his head, and what was confusion at first turned into agony._

 _The world went dark, and he himself felt a lot heavier. He couldn't understand what it was, but it seemed like smoke was erupting from his body._

 _He grew too tired, and collapsed._

 _The next thing he knew, the house was collapsing._

* * *

Fourteen hours ago...

 **Nueva York**

Somewhere in between the panic, Cindy knew she felt guilty. The last few minutes had been the most bizarre in her life yet, even more so than the day she had discovered her powers. She used to know and love one Peter Parker, although she had always had her doubts if ever reciprocated her feelings, for love for him was only about Mary Jane, and now she stood in the dimly lit darkness, surrounded by seven or eight of him, and then there stood equally suffered souls right before her, in the grip of death. Part of her knew this was all her fault, that she should have never come out of the bunker she had once been doomed to. Only if she had listened, maybe, all of this could have been prevented.

"Who are you all, and what is it that you really want?" Miguel O'Hara asked from behind the group. He was the one standing in the darkness, nearest to the man called Morlun. Cindy took a weary look at him. It was as if he was suited to the darkness, as if, he always preferred the darkness even more than the light. Standing to the man she had seen literally suck out the life force off of a police officer didn't seem to matter much to him. His voice sounded heavy and concentrated, as if he was formulating an escape plan.

"We want the Bride," the gigantic man said. "The one known amongst you as Cindy Moon. It's her, or these people's life."

"You make the decision," Morlun added.

"And yeah, well, this is your family?" the Spider-Man with the white logo asked. "Because, sorry to admit, we aren't that thrilled to meet them. Maybe ringing the doorbell would have been nicer."

"You don't know who we are."

"Enlighten us."

Cindy stared at the gigantic man. And she didn't like the way he returned her look. His eyes bore her down, devouring her, and, though from her brief encounter with his brother she had come to know that he was hungry, she could sense a deep sense of something else in that face, something really unpleasant, something she wished never really came true. His eyes were scanning her up and down; they would stop for a second, hold on the gaze, and then continue exploring her sight. All along, Cindy loved the way she looked, how she maintained herself, but now she wished she could cut back on some of her "healthy" lifestyle.

And then the giant spoke: "We are a small civilization before the multiverse was even born, being the first ever, in _any_ reality. We once ruled the land we lived upon. Our father, Solus, the rightful king of them all, the only one wise enough to see sanity and practicality, was banished and to this day he is deprived of his freedom. We as his children are the ones to restore it. Mind you, we are immortals. The multiverse is our inheritance. It all belongs to us. You can't outrun us. You'll end doing so, but not us."

"I'm sorry," Peter B. interrupted, "and yet I thought Thor was the only one banished from the throne."

"Oh, don't even talk about it," Miguel muttered.

"You think," Morlun said, " that we want Cindy because she'll give us a good dinner? No, of course not! We aren't going to kill her! Without her, our work will not be done."

"What work?" the white-logo Spider-Man asked.

"Not everything should be known," Morlun said. "You mortals think you can understand _everything_? You can't, and there is no point explaining. As for that matter, there is no time either. The more the delay, the more lives we take. Hurry up now, while you are asked nicely."

If she stayed, they'd all die.

Cindy looked at them. The small girl looked like she hardly knew what teenage was, and she'd already seen things she ought not to. Then there was that young Peter Parker who could not have been older than eighteen. And then there was the older one. As strange as it was, they all had problems similar to her. Maybe they all had Mary Jane issues, a dead Gwen Stacy, family problems, parents they never knew, who knew what else? It all led her to think, was he life really worth it? If she could give herself up, four lives could be spared. And what's one life compared to four? Besides, these people said they wouldn't kill her off right away. Maybe she could think of something to get away later. Maybe. She didn't know.

The silence was so deadly, she could hear all their hearts beating. Drumming. It was eerie, but she wanted them to keep on going. Not one of them should stop. It was her job. This, was what she had always signed up for. To save life, whatever it took. When she was unsure of herself, she would look at Peter. And it was what made her admire him. The boy he was, the man he is now, not a day goes by when he isn't ready to stand up for others. No matter what. _Always found a way to come back_ , as he said.

She'd miss him.

Without a further hesitation, she stepped forward. She caught Peter's glance, warning her to stay back, shouting, _what are you doing?_

"You leave them," she said to the giant, trying not to look him in the eye.

"Why, that's a good girl," he said. "Come further, now."

"Cindy, no," Peter B. said. "You can't give yourself up like that. Don't go."

Cindy swallowed back tears. "Peter, there is no other way. It's alright. This is what it's all about. This is what I've always signed up for."

She resisted the urge to turn back and go and give him a hug. She knew if she went back, she wouldn't be coming back again.

Before her, she looked at her four counterparts. The dimly lit red lights hid most of their expressions. _It's alright_ , she tried to communicate with looks.

The red lights faded into darkness.

* * *

 **Earth-982**

Seven o'clock in the morning, and Dr. Peter Parker opened the door to his lab.

Phil Urich was already inside, pouring his mind over a beaker of green liquid.

"You're a little late today," he said, suddenly getting up from his chair.

"I know, but Mayday's not home."

He got out of his place. "What do you mean? Since when?"

Peter sighed. "She was supposed to go for a science project, and as much as I know, she did go. She said she could be late while returning, but she didn't show up."

Phil went to the computers. "Would you like me to search for her, or inform the cops?"

"Neither," Peter opened his locker and put on his lab coat. "She's in the city. It's just that I called her friend, and she confirmed May was there. But I know she's lying. It's her birthday, and I'd have been happier if she were home."

"Oh," Phil scratched the back of his head. "So you know where she is."

"Yeah."

"At her boyfriend's."

"I had no knowledge she had one, but it seems she's with a boy. Richard West, and I checked him up. He's at her class."

Phil clicked his tongue. "Privacy man! She's grown up now!"

"I know, I know, but she's still my kid." Peter shrugged. "Can't help it."

"You tell me you didn't spend nights sleeping with Mary Jane when you were young."

"I didn't."

Phil smirked. "But how did you know where she is?"

"Her bag," Peter sighed, shrugging guiltily. "Has a tracker. I just know the location. It's for her own good."

Phil Urich shook his head. "And it adds to your anxiety."

* * *

When Mayday Parker opened her eyes, she was staring at an unfamiliar white ceiling. The fan above her was on and spinning ever so slightly, blowing an almost non-existent breeze that was quite soothing to the skin.

Somewhere in the background, a slow acoustic song played, very mellow and faint.

Mayday sat up and her back rested against a large head rest she never even remembered existed. She was a little dazed. The blanket slipped, and the cool air bit into her skin. Slowly the course of events of yesterday's night unfolded and flashed through her eyes. Looking down, she almost had a momentary panic when she realized she was still totally bare underneath the covers. It had been so sudden, it all felt like a dream. Disbelief clouded her thoughts as she found there was a pillow beside her, which had evidently been slept in.

The room, large and wide, was bathed in brilliant sunlight that was only subtly peering in through the partially parted curtains. There was a desk before her, along side the left wall, above which stood the computerized miniature car they had undertaken as their high school team project, the very reason she had ended up here in the first place.

She was supposed to be at Heather's home, yesterday night, just as she had told her father, which, at that moment, she had totally meant, word for word.

"Why?" her father had asked.

"I told you about that prototype, you remember? The one we've been building for science fair?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, it's just taking a little too long, and that the final day's closing in, it's better we finished it. So I might be a little late, tonight, but you needn't worry."

Peter Parker folded his arms. "You know I can finish it up for you in half the time."

Mayday chuckled, picking up her backpack. "I know, but it's supposed to be a team work."

Heather's home had been warm and lively that night. Four familiar faces were waiting for her, Heather herself, and one of the other three, Richard, who had been her boyfriend for only two weeks now.

Mayday rubbed her face. The entirety of what she'd done-they'd done-set in, teasing and dancing before her.

 _Congratulations kiddo, you're eighteen and you've just done it._

Mayday blinked.

 _Eighteen._

Shit.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.

It was supposed to be her birthday.

No.

It _was_ her birthday. Today. And she wasn't home. Panic raced back through her spine. Suddenly she felt a lot colder, and she wrapped the blanket tighter around her, fearing the very air would see her. Holding her breath, she reached for her phone, and there they were: Twenty-five missed calls. Seventeen from her dad, and another eight from Heather. And there was a message from her too:

 _Happy Birthday Jackpot, hope you're having the time of your life!_

She was about to race for her clothes, which to her _part-disbelief_ and _part-familiarity_ , were folded neatly on a chair, when the door opened, and _literally_ , bright sunlight walked in. _He_ walked in, only in his boxers, his abs rippling with every stride. Reading his expression was hard, because she found it totally _weird_ to look at him now.

"How long have you been awake?" Richard asked, walking over to the bed and sitting beside her.

"I don't know, five minutes. You?"

He shrugged. "Half an hour, maybe," He motioned at the bedside table to her right. "I really didn't know if you liked coffee, or tea, so I made you a glass of milk and then there's a packet each of coffee and tea, whichever you like. And uh, I'm not that great at cooking, so I just got you a plate of fruits and cookies, and biscuits. Now I know you like chocolate cookies."

Mayday smiled. "Actually, I usually have a glass of water when I wake up."

Richard turned red in the face. "I'll…get you one," he said, about to get up. "Now."

"Richard."

"Yeah."

"It's totally alright."

"No, it's fine."

"No, I uh, actually I guess I should be heading home now. My dad's been calling me, a lot missed calls-"

"Hey, hey," he sat back down beside her. He stroked her cheek. "It's okay. It's totally okay. Heather called. She told me your dad called her, when you didn't pick up."

Mayday's eyes widened. She pictured her father, cold with worry.

"She told him you're staying for the night. Thing's almost done, so yeah, he knows you're...in…her house."

"Okay."

She thought about her baby brother, who must have been creating enough trouble for her father to handle alone. It was her birthday, and she ought to be home, with her father and brother. By now she was supposed to be playing with Benjy, who was carefree about the difficult times he lived in, and who was maybe carefree even now. Mayday sighed. Probably he was throwing his toys outside the window, enjoying it, and enjoying the face of his babysitter, who would curse to herself and rush out to bring them back, for his mother had left with a warning: _Not a single harsh word, not a single harsh sound._

And her dad. She'd have to lie to him. When she'd meet him, he would ask, "Where have you been?", to which she would say, "Heather told you right? It was too late when we finished it, and I decided to stay over, and give the finishing touch in the morning", when in reality, adrenaline had taken over both her and Richard, and the next thing she knew, she was at his apartment, standing at the doorway to this room, staring at the darkness, when he lit the bed-side lamp.

Lies, lies, all lies. Maybe the life of a hero was built on lies, lies to protect the ones you care about the most.

She didn't have to recall what had happened after that. It was a blur as the events raced one after another.

"Why haven't you put on your shirt?" she asked him now, tugging at the edges of the blanket, trying to cover as much of herself as she could.

He had surely noticed it. "You know you pulled it all to yourself? The blanket. I had to take out a new one." He motioned at the pile of green and yellow, neatly folded at the foot of the bed.

She turned red in the face. "I'm sorry," she said.

Richard laughed. "Why do you have to be sorry about it?"

Mayday returned a nervous laugh. "I guess I don't make for a good companion. I have this habit of pulling the blanket all to myself." Another lie.

She guessed he would go on to ask how it had been. Either he, or she would. It was hanging in the air. And thinking of it, it was weird. It was totally awkward, especially now, to be talking to him like this, in full command of herself. Whatever had happened last night was totally on an act of impulse.

"It was my first time," Richard said, looking away, as if he had just read her mind. Mayday stared at him. It was so much easier to look at him now, when he wasn't looking at her with that killer expression.

"Mine too," she said slowly. _Guess we messed it up a little…_

"I was about to get dressed for class." He turned to her, noting that she was staring at him confused. "So I hadn't put any other shirt on yet." He shrugged. "You asked. Oh, and I..uh-" he reached across her, and towards the bed side table with the tray of food, and brought out a stem of rose May hadn't noticed it earlier. "I'll get you something later. How silly of me, I should have gotten something earlier."

Mayday accepted it, and before it was too late, grasped his hands. "You don't have to get me anything," she said softly and kissed him on the cheek.

"Well as a matter of fact I do," Richard said and got up to close the curtains.

When he got back, he clambered atop her legs, the blanket the only thing separating them.

"Richard," Mayday said, "Why have you shut the curtains?"

He smiled to himself, shook his head once, twice, and his face set as if to undertake a task, slipped under the covers,atop her.

"We're gonna get late for school," the words felt rubbery to May.

"Relax, it's only seven. School starts at ten."

* * *

 **Earth-1610**

There was light in the darkness.

At first, it would go on and off. On and off. And then, it grew in intensity. Miles had to shield his hooded eyes, because it was bright enough to penetrate into his sleep. As he came to, he heard his name being called out.

"Miles!"

It hadn't registered in him that he should respond. Added to that, he didn't want to wake up. He didn't know why, but something kept on whispering in him that he was better off sleeping for some time.

"Miles! Miles, wake up!"

His eyes snapped open, and he almost screamed. There again it was, right above him: the spiral that opened the gate to another universe. Gwen was leaning onto it.

"Gwen?" Sleep disappeared instantly. "What time is it?"

She shook her head. "I don't know. I don't care. Listen. We need to talk."

The whisper in his sleep came back. It whispered into his ear. _Go back to sleep_. He remembered now why he was better off sleeping. It spared him his thoughts. It spared him _Gwen_.

"I should go back to sleeping, Gwen. You shouldn't have come."

"Miles, listen."

Lying with his back on his bed, Miles looked away. She was at an arm's distance from him. He would just have to reach out. His finger tips would be brushing her cheeks. A thrill that had died two days ago. Suddenly the space that would have otherwise seemed too less seemed a little too much today.

"Is there anything left to listen, Gwen?" He avoided her eyes. If he looked at her, she would unknowingly convince him to listen. _Damn himself_!

"Yes, there is," she answered with such firmness, that Miles was ultimately tempted to look at her. "In fact, there is a lot."

"All cooked up stories, aren't they?"

Her expression turned to confusion, and then to disbelief. " _Excuse me_?"

Miles pushed himself off his bed. He had to be careful not to touch her. But she didn't try, and he didn't understand why, but deep inside, he was a little stunned that she didn't. He had unwillingly wanted her to try and reach out for him.

"Come on, Gwen, just… drop the act."

"What act?"

"Why did you lie to me?"

She looked at him wide-eyed, mouth agape. "What did I lie to you about?"

He sighed. He walked to his window, parted the curtains a little, and looked outside. "About you and Harry being friends."

"But we _are_ friends."

Miles nodded. "More than friends, that's what I meant. Why are you even here, now, Gwen? You still think I'll believe you after I saw _what I saw_ that night?"

He heard her desperate sigh and gasp. He wasn't sure which of those it was.

" _He_ kissed _me_ , Miles."

"Yeah but you let him, right? You could have stopped him if you _wanted_ to. You're…you're Spider-Girl!"

"But why does it bother you _anyway_? What, you were gonna ask me out?"

Miles turned around, red in the face. " _Ask you out_? Why _would_ I ask you out when you are _Harry Osborn's_ girlfriend? He can ask you out. Take you to fancy restaurants in a limo! No. I don't even _care_ about you. It doesn't bother me. He's all _yours_. You go and do whatever the hell you feel like doing. Kiss him, screw him, whatever. It's fine. Just get out of here! _Go_!"

She winced at his words. As if those words hit her like a truck. Her face contorted in what looked like despair and rage, as if she was about to break down, that she was somehow holding it together, and then she threw, literally shot, something at him. Had it not been for his reflexes, Miles would have been hit hard in the head. Instead he caught it. He looked down at his hands to see what it was.

His phone.

She was gone, and the portal closed.

 _No, don't go…_

Miles checked his alarm clock. It was just three in the morning. Rage built inside him. It was unfair. It was all very unfair. He didn't know who he was actually mad at. Himself, or Gwen. Or both. He resisted the urge to hurl his phone at the wall. Instead, he tossed it at his pillow.

He stood by the window, looking at the street. Now he couldn't even talk to her. Worse, he had a feeling that portal would never open again. He might not ever see her again. Had he overreacted?

He was left alone in the darkness: darkness of the room, darkness of his mind, completely unsure what to do.

He wanted to go out to the street and scream his lungs out. Till he collapsed. He wanted to punch himself in the gut and knock his breath out. Fists clenched. Jaws clenched.

Instead, he jumped to his bed, pulled on the blanket, over his head, and then put the pillow over his head and tugged hard at it by its sides. He let out a small scream, completely muffled by his bed sheet, and used his pillow cover to wipe at the tears.

* * *

 **Earth-982**

Wes Westin was the first to reach school that morning, and he was still standing at the entrance an hour later. He secretly felt for the flowers in his shirt pocket, and the box of chocolates that weighed down his backpack.

So, when half an hour later he dumped the box of chocolates into the trash, Davida Kirby gasped and said, "You are the most disgusting person that has ever walked on this Earth."

Lilac, lilies and roses, three stems of each, crumpled and turned into something very unsightly ugly, in the cruel hands of Wes Westin.

"I know," he said.

Mayday's favorite flowers, meant for her, but not anymore. And she didn't know.

"You're pissed," Davida commented, her hands on her hips, like Sherlock Holmes deducing personal emotions with sheer observation.

"You think so?"

"It's evident."

"Is it, really? What happened?"

Wes shook his head.

* * *

 _Fifteen minutes ago, Wes had lost the courage to walk up to May._

 _When she'd arrived, and when he saw Richard with her, he had lost the nerve and determination to talk to her. Demotivation had set in, partly because he had doubted about the two of them._

 _There had been gasps, but Mayday and Richard acted pretty normal, and May had even occasionally nodded, a little red in the cheek._

 _And then he had to stand behind the girls at class, nevertheless making up his mind to wish May anyway._

 _"Don't you look a little drained?" Heather had expressed, showing a little dramatic concern over her features._

 _"Do I?" Mayday asked, sounding a little nervous._

 _"Considering the fact that you openly walked in with Richard West," Courtney joined in, adding, "who does happen to be one of the most good-looking guys in the class, and that you're late to school... Doesn't something sound a little awkward?"_

 _"Yes, of course," Heather taunted May. "What is it?"_

 _Mayday sighed. Wes pretended to be out of hearing range. "You probably know it."_

 _"We wanna hear it," Heather said._

 _"Heather, maybe she wants to keep it all to herself. Should we be so nosy?"_

 _"It's okay Courtney," Mayday said. "I can tell the two of you. Just, the two of you. And yes, I slept…" Mayday motioned, "Richard."_

 _Wes had to hold on to a chair to keep his balance._

 _"Slept as in…?" Heather asked, smiling mischievously._

 _"Heather," Courtney scolded, "stop it!"_

 _Heather laughed. And then she clapped. "Oh, I knew it," she exclaimed. "I knew it! I'm so happy for you! At least, you belong to the class now, May Parker. Someone who's at last normal and ordinary. Was it first time for Richard too?"_

 _"Heather!"_

 _"Yes," May admitted. "I think so."_

 _Heather laughed unreasonably again, and hugged Mayday._

* * *

For something to be called _unannounced mindful visits_ , Wes was suddenly reminded of Ben Hanscom in _It_. He'd seen Ben, the way he looked at Beverly when she grew closer to Bill, and Wes _had_ wondered how it must have felt, though he always secretly knew, but today was the finale of it.

"Is it May, or is it Richard?" Davida asked, shaking him back to his unwanted present. "Or is it-"

"Heather, yes."

God, Wes hated Heather today. That loudspeaker would just never shut up. His mom had a radio once, which she'd turn on when on her hour-long paintings, and Wes would sit beside her, and sometimes watch her frown when it would play some song she didn't like. _Noise_ , she'd call them.

 _Noise_ , was how he wanted to describe Heather today.

"Well you know her, Wes. It's nothing unusual. Plus, she's more jealous of some kind, of May, if you want to be clear. She's a drama queen, and a pretty loud one at that. Everything's exaggeration. But you've got to stop lying to yourself. Heather's not the one you're upset about. You know that."

Wes sighed.

"It's them, isn't it?"

"I don't know, Davida." And that was true. He was confused. Here he was, pining over Mayday, his longing to touch her dark brown hair with that reddish tint, which just reached her neck, and smell that familiar scent that constituted of shampoo and perfume, and hold her thin and firm hands. But only Richard could do that now, and he did everyday, and Wes didn't want to think about anything more. "I really thought I'd wrap it all up today and pull the curtains close by giving her those flowers, let my mind rest and get free of her. I don't even know if she'd have accepted them, but I'd try, which I should have done two weeks ago. All I thought was I'd give something to her, get all peaceful, and let go of her, although she was never mine, and then all that fuss made by Heather about her sleeping with Richard, all that first timer or something, it really drove me away. It was something I wasn't ready to hear."

"Wes, Richard wasn't sure when he asked her out either."

"But May didn't mind when he kicked her feet from behind, under the table, did she? God forbid I'm telling you the truth today, Davida. Half my life, since I saw her at school, I spent everyday dreaming about her, until I realized I cared for her. Thing is that I still do, and that's the problem. And it's not easy, finding Richard pull her to a corner and then seeing them suck each other's face out."

Davida shook her head. "I told you, I never trusted that guy. I see more lust than love."

"Love what?" Mayday Parker jumped out of nowhere.

"Popcorn," Davida answered quickly. For someone on best-friend level with Mayday, she seemed to be pretty pissed off to.

"I love popcorn too," Mayday said, a little distracted. Then she looked at Wes. "Hey you," she said.

"Huh?" Wes said, startled, his heart pounding he knew not whether with anger or anxiety.

"Aren't you gonna wish me today?"

Wes sighed. "As a matter of fact, I was about to. But then, you disappeared into the crowd." He awkwardly extended his hand. "Happy…Birthday?"

May looked at him with hooded eyes. "Not like that."

"Alright," Wes feigned friendly annoyance. He embraced her, like the way he had always done in the last couple of years. "Happy now?"

"Yeah," Mayday said, feeling sift against him.

But that smell, it wasn't Mayday's. Wes knew exactly how her shampoo smelled, and he had a lot of theories about it, but today she smelled like someone else.

May produced a ring from her trouser pocket. It had a pearl attached to it. "You see this? How do you like it?"

"Did Richard gift you that?" Wes couldn't hide the sarcasm in his voice.

"No, silly, my Mom gave it to me before she left for her tour. I waited for this day to wear it." she pocketed it back again.

"It's _beautiful_ ," Davida said. "I wish _my_ Mom had given me something like that."

"OH MY GOSH!" Mayday exclaimed suddenly, "Wes, what have you done to those flowers?"

Wes almost lost the ground beneath him. "What, these? They were meant for you, bust they slipped from my hands and them there was the crowd and it got ruined."

Beside him, he saw Davida slam her forehead.

"But these are my favorite flowers," May exclaimed. "How did you know I love them? Even Richard doesn't know!"

Wes shrugged. "Well, I've known you longer than he has, I think."

"You know what, Richard? Give them to me anyway."

"What? No!"

May was about to grab for them, when she stopped midway. She froze for a second, took out her phone, and her eyes went wide.

"What happened?" Davida asked.

"Nothing," Mayday said, her eyes set far ahead. "I've got to go."

"Where?" Wes asked.

"I'll tell you later," she said, and turned and ran.

Wes bent down to pick up something that was glimmering in the morning light.

"What is it?" Davida asked.

"Her ring," Wes said.

"By the way, you know what?"

"What?"

"I think she has more of brotherly feelings towards you."

Wes turned to go. "It doesn't matter."

* * *

It was at Manhattan.

As Mayday swung closer, she smiled. It was right before the Daily Bugle.

What didn't make her happy wasn't that Kingsley had turned himself into the Green Goblin again, but that fighting him was her father in his Spider-Man attire, with not a single trace of Uncle Phill's presence.

"Damn it Kingsley," she called aloud, trying to catch the attention of the monster. She ignored the intent look from her father. She would deal with that later. "I thought you had learned," she said again, getting into Kingsley's vicinity.

The area around was a mess. Police cars were tossed around like her brother tossed his toys. The road had been dug with, she was sure, those sword-like claws of the now Green Goblin, and if those somehow made their way into her father's back, no, she didn't want to think about it. For she knew her father was not fast enough, and for that matter, he could never be. She gave a secret glance at the ripped costume, right across the chest. Fortunately, Kingsley only managed to have grazed the fabric, and not his skin. She didn't want injuries, especially not today.

Spider-Man, before Mayday even touched ground, and she knew why, lounged at Kingsley, propelling the both of them away from her and towards the entrance of the Bugle.

"Jameson already hates you," Mayday called out, following them.

Green Goblin, who looked like he was powering up, and Mayday didn't like that pose, breathed out a huge ball of fire, and a distressed Spider-Man ducked aside, somehow missing the flames.

Mayday's heart ran cold. That was new, and comparing both of there, it was now she realized Kingsley had undergone a whole new mutation. He was larger, greener, and wilder.

Now, before he could reach for her father and rip his skeleton out of him, Mayday fired her webs at the frames of the foyer entrance, and catapulted herself straight at the the monster.

"Spider-Girl," he rasped, when Mayday collided with what had been his belly, "You here to die with him?"

"You're mannered enough not to kill me on my lucky day, aren't you?" Spider-Girl taunted. She elbow struck him right across the face, aiming for the eyes. She didn't have a clue as to what to do. The only way was to keep him busy.

"And really, Kingsley, I'm really, _really_ disappointed with you."

"Why?" he tried to reach for her and grasped at thin air.

"You'd promised me you'd never do this again," Spider-Girl erupted somewhere from the back, and jabbed him again across the back of the neck. And then on his head, those horns! Those pretty, bull-like, deadly horns. She wondered if she could pull them off. She clambered to the top, and pulled at them, her feet digging across his back to keep the support. "Don't promises…mean…anything…to you?"

Kingsley swung from side to side. "Get off me!"

"No, I really like your horns. I wonder if I could keep them," Mayday said, struggling.

"Spider-Girl," her father called out, back in the show from the editorial room where he was thrown, "Don't pull back."

Under her mask, Mayday rolled her eyes. "You bet I won't," she retorted, and somehow, it seemed to give her a spark. How dare he give her advice when he never listened to her?

Grinding her teeth, with brute force, mayday pulled harder and was thrown back, through the wall to the other side.

Kingsley let out a howling scream that must have rung throughout the entire street. It was terrifying.

When Mayday opened her eyes, she found in both her hands, objects like that of a wild elephant's tasks, both jagged at the blunt ends. The goblin's horns. She threw them away in disgust.

When she came out on the street, she didn't like the scene she saw. Her father was crawling on the road, like a half-dead person, and Kingsley, mad with pain and rage, picked up a car to hurl at him.

For a moment, Mayday was tempted to just watch. _Just throw it, and then he will learn_. For once, she was really mad at her father. It was a kind of rage beyond words, beyond curses, beyond expression.

"Don't hold back, huh?" she screamed at the top of her lungs, and caught Kingsley's attention. He flung the car at her with exceptional force. Nothing happened. Mayday swung her hands at it, and it almost bent in two as it came into contact. The remains of the car deflected off like a ball made entirely of rubber.

Mayday lounged at Green Goblin. She kept it in mind not to hold back.

One punch, she heard the snap of his femur. Another, a dislocated jaw. She struck out with her elbow. A broken arm. She lashed out with her foot, maybe a broken pelvis.

" _Stop_!" Spider-Man cried. "That enough! That's it. Just stop!"

Mayday recoiled.

A broken Roderick Kingsley lay before her, crumpling, crying. Spider-Man got to his feet and produced a syringe. He uncapped the needle and pushed it gently into Kingsley's good arm. A moment later, he began to shrink and turn back to his human self.

He lay there, un-moving, but breathing.

"We've…" her father gasped, "we've got to call the ambulance. This man will die."

Standing right before the two of them, entirely still, it was now that dawned on Mayday what she had done. There he was, Kingsley, invalid maybe for his life, even paralyzed, perhaps. All because of her. Roderick, he had learned his lesson before, and he had promised to stop. For once, it had even occurred to Mayday that he had actually given up the Goblin.

And now this.

She gave an angry stare at her father, and swung away without a word.

* * *

"I had _told_ you," Mayday began, sitting at the edge of the roof.

"I know," Peter said, "I just… couldn't… I was worried. Plus if you even get a scratch on your birthday, Mom's gonna kill me."

"Dad I get scratches every day! I burnt a little skin today too!"

Peter raised his hand in surrender and shrugged. "Mom's gonna kill me."

"No. You're gonna kill yourself." She poked his in the chest. "Your leg, Dad? Reed hadn't designed it for combat."

"It works totally _fine_!"

" _No_ , but you were NOT! Your leg was trembling, Dad! Why won't you just listen? Your days as Spider-Man are over. You're… _old_! Spider-Man should he gone by now. You should quit. Before you kill yourself."

"But I can't just wait and watch you-"

"You have to. The way you made Grandma May and mom do, now you have to. You were asking me what I wanted today as my birthday present? Well? I'll be happy to see that suit wasted. I don't want to see, ever again, Spider-Man, okay? He's dead, and now Peter Parker is just a scientist. No more Spider-Man, let Spider-Girl do her job. His time is gone now. I think this city is better with just one spider at a time. Plus, you only add to the job. Had it not been for you, I'd have had Kingsley much ahead."

Peter sighed.

"You understand me?' Mayday asked.

"I… oka-"

" _Do you understand me or not_?"

"Yes, I do, I do! I _was_ going to say _okay_."

Mayday nodded. "Good."

Peter put his hand on hers. She pulled it away. "I've gotta go. Heather's supposed to be waiting."

"But we were about to go to fetch our cake and a little shopping, right?"

Mayday shook her head. "Change of plans. We'll go tomorrow."

* * *

 **Nueva York**

"You Dinosaurs think you can take over my cave," Miguel's voice growled in the darkness. "With your ancient technology and killer appetite. You think you can eat my friends, and negotiate us into handing over this _bride_ of yours. Well, you can't. Not in my place, no."

Suddenly the lights grew back on, bright and blinding. The interior of the room had changed. The walls, which were formerly lined with cables and screens and maps, were now arranged with what looked like lasers and guns, all pointed at the intruders' direction.

Right in between the spider gang and the vampires, a figure took form, and transformed into Lyla.

"Jennix?" Daemos called out. "I thought you had it under control."

The man, who was standing behind the group, at the middle, began fumbling with a tablet-like device.

"You can't override my lab anymore," Miguel said. "Never again."

The young Peter under the captivity of the woman in red was awake now. He looked pale, but more than that he look stunned.

"Lyla, _now_!" Miguel's voice came again, urgent.

The lights went out again. The entire room sounded of a huge hum, like cannons being loaded. Somewhere behind the spider-gang, the wall lighted up in a spiral, and revealed a portal opening up.

And then just as the commotion had started, the cannons fired.

The entire room blinked with the sparks of gunfire and laser.

"I've programmed them so that they'll only hit them," Miguel announced to the gang. "If you come in line, you won't be shot."

And that was it. Miguel didn't wait. He hoped the captives took the cue, because he doubted he could do everything all by himself.

Miguel made his way for the lady in red- Bora. Out of nowhere, her sword appeared, and as he raced towards her, he could already feel its blade piercing him.

"At her face," Miguel muttered, and Lyla pointed a shot right at Bora's eye-level.

The sword went up as a shield, freeing the Spectacular Spider-Man, and Miguel shot out his webs to pull him out.

Peter B. Parker dived at Daemos. Cindy raced after him, right at his trails. Peter pretended to dodge, but let Daemos have him by the throat. Cindy unbalanced them, and Peni went free.

Right then, somewhere at the back of the room, sp/dr turned on and into _lethal mode_.

With chainsaws protruding from its hands, it went for Spider-Man 67. Spider-Man 1048 charged his drone at Brix, and sp/dr almost sliced him up.

"Peni don't," Spider-Man 1048 called after Peni. "We don't kill, remember?"

Chainsaw turned back into hand, sp/dr picked Brix up, and flung him away into the gunfire, while Spider-Man 67 dropped to the ground.

Spider-Ham found a large ship anchor and sent it hurtling at the scientist vampire called _Jennix_.

The only one left unharmed was the other lady, with the tightly tied hair. While the others fought, she watched, and it was like she was summoning something. Amidst the gunfire she moved along with the spiders, yet not offensive, taking cover from the bullets. Until Ham struck out with his triple-sized mallet.

"Lyla," Miguel called, "Triple the intensity and double up the frequency. Before we run out of ammo. Quick."

" _Yes, Miguel._ "

Miguel's lab turned into something like a boiling and raging sea of bullets and lasers. For a moment, Miguel wondered if he had made a mistake, but then he saw his counterparts from other worlds reach for the portal.

As the last one made his dive (Peter from Earth-1048), Miguel took a glance at the vampires. They were imprisoned here, but only temporarily. They had to find someplace else.

He jumped in.

"Lyla which reality is this?"

" _Earth-199999, Miguel._ "

* * *

 **Earth-982**

Wes Westin cursed himself.

 _You don't know what you're doing. Just give it back to her at school. You should NOT be here._

And then he thought, _screw it! It'll only take a minute._

* * *

"I'm really sorry I'm not with you right now honey," Mary Jane Parker was saying.

"I know Mom." Mayday smiled at her laptop screen. "You're just doing what you have to."

MJ nodded. "So, what's for dinner? How's Dad?"

Mayday sighed. "Dad…was Spider-Manning, today. He just won't stop!"

Her mother smiled. "That's one of the things I've failed at, Mayday. Just the way you can't."

"No…Come on…I mean, you know why I can't, Mom. Because…I still _can_ , but Dad, every time I see him in the suit it looks too large and loose for him. What if something happened?"

"I can't do anything about that, May. He always makes it out. I can't do anything but worry and wait. Now _he_ knows how to worry. He's very good at that. But he's never learned to _wait_ , and that is why he always tries to cover your back. I know that you're concerned, that you fear he might not make it, after everything that's happened, he's lost a leg, he's not as good as before, but you gotta learn to accept it. If you can't, well, you won't trust him. Just trust him. He has made it his responsibility to look after you everywhere and anywhere."

"There are other ways."

"You know he's _willing_ to give his life for you. But maybe it was never meant to be me. Maybe, you can do what I couldn't. You try to convince him. Again."

"I did that."

"What did he say?"

"' _Okay_ '."

" _May_!" It was Emily, Benjy's babysitter, calling.

"Yeah?" May called back.

" _Someone's here for you_."

"Who is it?"

" _Some boy from your class_."

May turned back to the screen.

MJ smiled. "It's going to be okay, May. But I've got to go now. Break's over."

Mayday sent her kisses. "Bye Mom."

"Bye. Enjoy your day."

The screen went black.

"Will do," Mayday muttered to herself.

May pushed herself off her chair and hurried over to the front door. There, standing outside, was Wes.

"Hey," he said, standing on the porch steps.

"Wes? Come in! Wow, what brings you here?"

Wes raised his eyebrows. He pulled something out of his jacket pocket. It was her ring.

"You dropped it," Wes said, seeing her jaw fall. "When you suddenly left."

May breathed heavily, trying, yet unable to smile. "Oh God…"

"Yeah," Wes handed it over to her.

"I don't know how to thank you," she said.

"No, it's alright."

She leaned forward and pulled him to a hug, and planted a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you so much. I owe you a lot."

"You must be the boyfriend,"a voice called from behind.

Mayday turned around to find her father standing by the sofa. Uncle Phil had taken a seat near him.

"No," both May and Wes said in unison.

"We're very old friends," Wes added.

"Close friends," May said to Wes' unease.

"You should be more careful with your things," her father said, his arms crossed. Uncle Phil was smiling.

"I know," Mayday said, looking at her feet. "Thanks to him."

"Well, come one then," Peter Parker.

"What?" May said.

"What's your name, son?"

"Reynard Westin, Sir. But you can call me Wes."

Peter smiled. "And you can call me Peter. May, invite him to dinner with us. Table's set for six. There's only five of us till now."

May turned back to Wes. "Please?"

"Thanks May, but I…"

"Wes, listen to me, please. I'll feel good about it. If necessary, I'll call up your folks and tell them."

"But I've already had food."

May crossed her arms. "No, you haven't. You, of all people, can never lie to me."

Wes sighed. "Fine."

Mayday smiled.

"At least let him in," Uncle Phil called out. "You're letting him freeze outside."

"Oops." May stepped aside to let Wes in. Shutting the door, she looked at the ring, and she went pale at the thought of almost losing it and never realizing. _Damn you Parker_.

Uncle Phiul ushered Wes in. That left her and her father, looking at each other.

"Dad," she began. "About today-"

"Save it," Peter Parker said, waving his hand, "Don't, if you don't want to. You were worried for me. It's your right." He smiled, and left the room.

* * *

The table had been set for six, and it was the quietest of ambiance.

To the right of May sat Emily. Opposite her, across the table sat Uncle Phil, and next to him was Wes. Nearest to May, to her left, at the head of the table sat her father, and opposite him, at the other end sat little Benjamin, fussing about in his chair.

The lights around the room had been dimmed, and candles were set around the table. At the center sat May's birthday cake, surrounded by pie, and meat and salad. A pot full of noodles was what was luring Benjamin to try and crawl across the table.

"I wish Mom was here," May said, rubbing her hands to warm them up. Why had they grown suddenly so cold?

"Make a wish, May," her father said.

May nodded and she closed her eyes. She thought of her father, and the horrible words she had said today struck her again. She thought of him right now, sitting beside her, smiling, and she didn't know how much hurt he was hiding inside, or if he had really forgotten. Sometimes May wished she could control her temper. She thought of her mother, and she wondered what she was doing right now, at the other side of the globe. Her being away felt like an abyss in here, and an abyss in May's sense of responsibility to protect her. But this wasn't the first time she'd left home.

Uncle Phil's image came next. May hadn't thought about him, but it was just before her eyes. Something was amiss. It appeared like Phil's head lolled down in sleep, and a cold, icy wave surged through May. For a brief moment, she saw her father, his artificial leg missing, on the ground, and then everything disappeared. Instant blackness of her closed eyelids. She felt goosebumps, and her heart began to beat faster.

She opened her eyes.

At first, she thought it was the effect of the lights, playing tricks. The table suddenly looked red, the food looked like it was covered excessively in sauce. But May didn't remember putting red lights for dinner. When with a finger she touched the finely polished wood, saw the tinny ripples created across the surface, and her hands felt wet, her thoughts changed direction. Looking at her finger tip, she saw it was smeared in red.

A sudden thump ignited her spider sense. The red liquid, which she realized, unbelievably was blood, splashed across her face, and she saw a great lump roll across the table and towards her.

A fountain of blood sprouted high above them from the neck of the headless body seated on the chair where Uncle Phil had been five seconds ago before May had closed her eyes. Without any grip on herself, May looked down at the table edge and screamed.

Phil Urich's motionless eyes were staring at her, expressionless.

It was then that the cold surge of wave rushed through her again. It was her spider-sense, but she could not trace the source of danger.

Her father had jumped back from his seat, and Emily had gone into hysterics. Wes had gotten hold of Benjy and was at the doorway, staring in horror.

May looked around. Beside the mess, there was no sign of who had done it, or how it had happened. It was just the head, lying on the table, and the headless body sprouting blood.

And then it had happened. Her spider sense was at its peak, so high that it gave her a headache, and when she could pinpoint the direction, her father screamed out. When she turned to look, something silvery was gleaming, protruding out of his chest.

Behind him stood a woman with blond hair in a red coat. She pulled back her sword, and Peter Parker fell on the ground, face-forward.

" _No_ ," May screamed, and dived towards him, but something hit her from behind, hard at her head, and she lost her balance. She fell next to her father, who was writhing on the ground, blood spilling on the floor.

What she heard next made her heart stop beating. It was her baby brother's voice, screaming and crying. She turned around from where she lay, and it was then that she realized who had assaulted her: the blond woman was not alone.

There stood a man, probably the largest she had seen in her life, his head almost touching the ceiling. In his one hand, held like a toy, was Wes, who had his arms wrapped around Benjy.

May pushed herself up to get to them, when, like the wind, her father was already up and had dived towards the man, unbalancing him. May cried in pain as she went to help him up. Something was coming for her, from behind, and she turned right in time, to avoid the sword of the blonde.

 _Don't hold back now_ , she reminded herself, and struck out at her, sending her crashing at the table.

"Who are you?" her father screamed, planting a punch at the man.

The man chuckled. "Your doom. And I like it." He stood up in a flash, sending Peter flying back. "A little fight in you. Spice to the meat. But I wasn't here for you."

"I'm sorry," Peter said, getting up. "No meal for free. My children are not your food." Out came the web suddenly, which went on to attach itself at Benjy.

Mayday took the cue. She hurled herself at the man, and Peter pulled, freeing Wes and Benjy from his grip.

"May, Wes, get out of here," he screamed.

"I'm not going anywhere without you," May cried.

"No, take Emily and Benjy as far away from here as possible. It's my wish, and you've got to listen."

"No," May said, helping Wes up, "They'll kill you."

Peter looked her in the eye. "What matters is you stay alright."

Mayday brushed tears from her eyes. "I'll come back, and you keep quiet." She rushed for the door. Wes and Emily went after her, and out into the cold night.

May glanced back at her house. She had to get in there. Fast.

"May, where do we go?" Wes asked, huffing.

"Out of here," May replied, "Out of this damn neighborhood."

The swish of the sword cutting the air stopped them. It was the sound that came first, and then the blond woman appeared before them, sword ready in hand.

"You stay behind," Mayday said, stepping ahead of Wes. "Wes, Emily, get out of here. I'll tackle her."

"You are not going anywhere," the woman said.

May put on her web-shooters. "First, you murder my uncle, and now, you're after my brother and my friends."

"All we need, is your brother," the woman said, taking position.

"No," May said, and struck.

She shot out with her webs. She had to separate the sword from her hands. The woman was faster, slicing her webs. Mayday took the risk, and ran towards her. If she could pull her away from the street, and into the woods beside them, it would help a lot.

So that was what she did. Mayday dodged the sword, struck out with her elbow at the woman's face, and pulled her off the street. They went crashing into the darkness of the trees.

There was a downfall here. The woman was too fast, and it was difficult to see her in the darkness. May had to rely more on her hearing, and all it told her was the swish of the sword. At once it grazed her arm, sending pain burning through her. She took help of the tree for cover, and crawled over.

Her plan was to attack from above, but the shrill cry that filled the night air, sent her shivering, distracting her. The woman appeared before her, on the tree branch, like she had just teleported, and Mayday, so distracted, didn't even notice her striking out, dropping her to the ground.

When Mayday got up, she was gone.

She dove out into the street, and witnessed the most horrible thing in her life. Wes was lying unconscious, at the curb, Benjy was wrapped in the woman's hands, and she had grabbed hold of Emily by the head. Something seemed to be wrong. Emily seemed to be ageing. She grew thinned, paler, and then all that was left of her seemed like a bag of skin, spread across the street.

Mayday screamed out, and the woman disappeared into thin air.

"Ben!" Mayday screamed, but nothing happened. There was no cry of her brother, no sound of sword cutting the air. Nothing.

And then she remembered. Her father.

Mayday hurried back to her house, and stopped. What remained of her house was a huge pile of bricks and ashes. Maybe only one quarter was left standing, somehow. Catching her breath, she rushed towards it.

But she didn't have to search long for her father.

He was right there, buried beneath the rubble, his hand poking out of the ruins.

She threw aside the rubble.

It was a man that looked like her father. Pale, with no flesh. His eyes were closed. The right leg was missing, only a metallic rod jutted out of the trousers, and sparks were flying from it.

"Dad?" Mayday cried. " _Dad_!" She shook him. "Dad, please! No-no-no-no-no-no-no…"

The man was paper-weight light. His eyeballs bulges out, under the shape of his skull was prominent even in the darkness. There was literally no flesh. Just skin on bones. Mayday felt sick, but more so for what had happened to him today. Today, of all days, and she had to be mean to him.

She'd thought she'd lost him, when there was a slight movement in Peter's fingers.

"Dad? Dad, you alright? Dad!"

Tears rolled down her eyes and onto the dying man's face. "Daddy, I'm so sorry."

"No, May," Peter Parker fought to say. Every syllable was filled with gasps.

"Dad, you're draining out."

"I've don't have long anyway." He fought to look her at the eye. "Tell me…"

May nodded. "Yeah?"

"Is…is…is…Benj-"

May broke down. There was a sharp pain in her throat and jaws, which seemed to feel very heavy. It felt like her lungs were about to implode.

"Benjy's okay," she said. "He's with Wes. They're both fine. Emily too. They're out of here Dad. I've seen to it."

Peter Parker closed his eyes. "Take… c-c-care of t-them…and..your mother…"

Mayday said, "I will, Dad," but it came out sounding all gibberish amongst her sobs. "I will."

Slowly, she felt the man become lighter. He suddenly grew as pale as the moon. His breathing eroded, and so did his weak pulse.

The sparks from the remains of his artificial leg died down.

* * *

 **Earth-1610**

There was a woman over there. He guessed, as he approached, that he would just have to wait till she was gone.

The night had been restless. It had already been a bad one. His parents were a little concerned about why he was late, and then he had to lie about his bruise and why he was drenched in rain and why he was late. He hated it. He hated lying to them. Why did he lie? But then again, if he told them the truth, they would freak out. They might probably even bring him back to Brooklyn Middle.

Now that he was just a few feet from Mr. Parker's grave, he saw who the woman was. Her back was turned to him. She had flawless red hair. She had a brown overcoat on. She was kneeling before the grave, and arranging the flowers in a fashionable order. There was a piece of cloth lying next to her on the slab. Probably she was cleaning the grave.

Miles knew who she was, and he didn't mind waiting till she was done. There was no hurry. Probably, he thought, he shouldn't sneak up on her.

He was about to retrace his steps when she stirred and turned around.

"Oh, Miles."

It was like she knew him all along.

Miles' heart skipped a beat. He couldn't understand why. Probably it was because he had always been unknowingly nervous about meeting her. She was, ultimately, the widow of Spider-Man. And he couldn't imagine the pain she lived with, her husband gone. And yet she must have always been there, supporting him, sending him out to a place where he could probably die, smiling, just like his mother did.

"Uh, hi. Mm..Mrs. P-Parker."

"Just a second," she said, and got up.

Miles hadn't been ready for it. In the act of getting up, she almost collapsed. She hadn't slipped. It was like she was almost knocked out. Like her head spun and she lost her senses. Miles rushed to her aid, arresting her fall.

"Thank you," she managed, trying to regain balance. "I'll be alright now."

Miles let go of her back and her hand. "I should get you some water," he said and was about to rush out for help, when she stopped him by the shoulder.

"No. No Miles. It's okay. It's okay. I just lost my balance, that's all."

"Are you okay, Mrs. Parker?"

She gasped in air. "Please call me MJ. And I'm fine. I'm fine." She swallowed some air. "I had imagined you taller, you know."

Miles didn't quite understand what she had just said. "You…you know me?"

She managed a smile. "Who doesn't?"

"Very few people do," he said, and then his eyes widened as the truth registered.

MJ shook her head. "No-no-no-no. You don't have to worry. It's completely fine. It's safe with me."

Miles scratched the back of his head. "It's okay. May told you right?"

She shook her head. "No. I asked her, although, maybe, I shouldn't have. That's right. I shouldn't have."

"No, Mrs. Parker- MJ - I think you have the complete right to _should_ have."

MJ furrowed her eyebrows. "What makes you say that?"

Miles shrugged. He didn't have any clear answer for her. "Spider-Man was…his…idea, right? He _was_ Spider-Man. Plus, I'm wearing his old suit." This was the part where he imagined she would scream at him, _How dare you, how dare you be who he was? How dare you wear his clothes?_

Instead she only smiled. "Wrong," she said, shaking her head. "Spider-Man is an idea. Anyone can be Spider-Man. As you have, now. And about taking his suit, why should that be a problem? He's not here to wear it anymore."

"But I spray-painted it."

She chuckled. "It's yours now, anyway."

They were walking together across the field. "Tell me Miles," MJ was saying, "Who do you have at home?"

Miles pocketed his hands. "Technically I live in a dorm, with my… best friend. Back at home, at Brooklyn, I have my parents. I go there every weekend."

"You've lived in Brooklyn your whole life?"

"Yeah, as far as I can remember. Yes."

"Nice."

Walking along with her, Miles felt at ease. She seemed to be a friendly woman. Not the way he had imagined. Not that he had thought she was going to turn out to be someone very severe, but he thought she could be very emotional, that she could go into hysterics at the talk of her husband. Instead, she was taking it very nicely, at least from the outside. The respect he felt for her right now was beyond words.

"I'm leaving New York, Miles," she said, walking softly alongside him.

Miles froze. "When will you be back?"

"I don't know. Maybe never. But whatever it is, it's clear I'll be gone a long time."

"Oh. I'm glad I'd got a chance to meet you then. Your husband was a very noble man. Perhaps the best there could ever be."

"Thank you, Miles. He was. And I'm glad I could meet you too. I was really counting on it. In fact, I was about to go over to your place to see you."

She placed a hand on his shoulder. "Miles, I know you'll take care of your friendly neighbourhood. That's a _guarantee_. But promise me you'll take care of yourself. It's far more important. Take care of your parents, and, your girlfriend."

"My _girlfriend_?"

She smiled. "Why, you don't have any?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

Miles looked away. "Not at the moment, no."

"May told me she thought you were _friends_ with the Spider-Woman of the other universe."

Miles shuffled his feet. "Friends, maybe we're friends. But…"

"It's complicated?"

He sighed. "Yeah, far more than can be resolved, I guess. She's with someone else. Tell me, MJ. Did you and Peter do complicated?"

MJ smiled and let out a nostalgic sigh. "All the time. It's never smooth, you know? And it's not a bad thing. But if she's with someone else…then…don't worry. You'll soon find someone close to you."

"Yeah."

"May also told me another thing."

"What was that?"

"She told me you were there, that night."

Miles tensed. "Which night?" _Please, not that night. Not this topic!_

"The night Peter died. You were there right?"

Miles looked down at his shoes. "Yes."

"Tell me, Miles," MJ said, and Miles was compelled to look into her blue eyes. They were desperate and afraid. "Was it…did he suffer? Was there pain?"

Miles' insides broke. How could he tell her that? He saw Peter Parker again. All torn and broken. Lying, most probably paralyzed. And then the snap. He literally heard all the bones in that great body crack and break. It shook him to the bones. Even now. He remembered catching a glimpse of that once agile body, now limp forever.

"It was quick," he told MJ. "I don't think there was any pain. It was instantaneous."

She remained unmoving, but Miles could picture her breathing a sigh of relief from the inside.

"Thank goodness," she said, and managed a smile. "I've got to get going, now, Miles."

"Is your car coming?"

She nodded. "Yeah. It's waiting outside." She turned to leave, then stopped and turned back. "I'm sorry to take you back to that night. But I…pardon me, but I had to know."

Miles nodded. "It's okay. I can understand."

"And remember," she gave a hint of a smile, "When I call May, as in when I ring her up, and I ask about you, I should hear that you're alright."

"Of course."

She nodded in understanding. "Bye Miles. Maybe I'll see you soon someday."

She had no idea how soon it was going to be.

"When are you leaving?" he asked.

"Tomorrow morning."

She waved, and with that, she left.

Miles watched her go. He was feeling terrible. He had lied to her. He had lied to one of the strongest and bravest persons he ever knew. How could he tell her that her husband had gone painfully? With maybe uncountable broken bones, and he was still breathing when Wilson Fisk delivered the death blow? He couldn't.

 _Why do we lie Miles? Why do we have to lie to our friends? And family? To the good people?_

 _So that we can spare them the pain the truth will otherwise inflict on them_ , his subconscious secretly answered.

Now he understood why Gwen had lied to him all along.

Because she cared for him.

* * *

 _My name is Mayday Parker._

 _I am the daughter of the true Spider-Man._

 _On the night of my eighteenth birthday, two assailants killed my father, and took away my brother, after killing his babysitter._

 _I swear, in my father's name, that one day, I'll find them._

 _And when I do, I'm going to kill them._

* * *

 **A/N: Earth-199999 is the designation of the Marvel Cinematic Universe, and as for how it is involved here, you'll know in the next chapter.**

 **If you liked this chapter, assuming, once again, that I have readers left, do let me know!**


	8. Identity Crisis

**A/N:**

 **Spoiler warnings for "Avengers: Endgame" and "Spider-Man: Far From Home"** **ahead. ****If you haven't, by miracle, watched any of these movies, then you're reading at your own will and risk.**

 **Also, here is a little note to drive away confusion:**

 *** Earth-199999 is the designation for the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU).**

 *** Earth-1610 is the designation of the Ultimate Universe (Miles Morales' universe from Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse).**

 *** Earth-65 is the designation of Spider-Gwen's home universe.**

 **Thank you everyone who have read this story so far for their continuous support. Also, thank you to everyone who have added this story to their "favorites" and "follows/story alert" list, and to those who have given their reviews. You all really make my day.**

 **To,**

 **Insert Name Here : Thanks for your recommendations. I will surely check it out, since I haven't read that story line yet.**

 **Nino : As you asked, I put up the names of the universes and which ones they actually represent just above,instead of writing them within brackets inside the chapter. I hope you find it easier to understand now. Thank you. It's amazing. It's been one year since I started this story, and I've only covered seven chapters. I'm glad I still have readers left despite such a slow pace.**

 **A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all my readers. If time permits, I'll try to finish another chapter before the thirty-first of December. If it is at all possible. But what the chances are more is that you might see a new story by me. It's a Spider-Man story, taking place in an AU of the "Homecoming/Far From Home" universe.**

* * *

 **Chapter 8: Identity Crisis**

" _Hello everybody, this is The Bugle, with maybe what you can call, the 'news of the decade'. Earlier today Spider-Man was revealed to have been behind the murder of the inter-dimensional superhero, Quentin Beck A.K.A. Mysterio. The news website The Daily Bugle was presented by an anonymous source the disturbing footage, which also went on to show Mysterio reveal who the real person behind the mask of the Wall Crawler is. He is claimed to be a Peter Parker hailing from Queens._

" _So today, right now, we have Jocob Miller at Midtown High, the school Mr. Parker goes to. Gathered around him are the staff of the school, along with some of Peter Parker's classmates. So without further delay, we'd like to move over to Jacob, and the questions."_

 _..._

" _Thank you Mark. As you can see folks, here we are, gathered at the grounds of Midtown Technical High School, surrounded by the concerned faculty and some of Peter's classmates. It has been a really confusing day for all of us to have heard the claims about the truth behind the mask of Spider-Man…"_

* * *

"This place is full of the Avengers, where are we?" Spider-Ham asked.

"It's called Earth-199999," Miguel said. "I'd been here. Back then it was 2018 here. Half of the population of the entire universe was missing. But now it's 2023, and guess what? All of them are back."

"How is it possible?" the Spectacular Spider-Man spoke for the first time. "You were here with me, if I remember, fighting that big guy."

"Daemos, yeah," Miguel agreed. "You see it's not that simple. Dimension hopping can be very tricky if not done properly. You jump time. Like Penny Parker here. She's around a thousand years from the future. There was a Spider-Man we used to know, he was from the year 1933."

"Yeah but this universe is the only one with the most active members of the Avengers," Ham commented. "And they hail Iron Man like he's God."

"No," Peter B. Parker said. "I see that here, eight months ago, Mr. Stark gave up his life to save the entire universe, leaving behind his daughter and wife. It seems they regard him as the greatest hero ever."

"The Daily Bugle doesn't have that say," Spider-Man of Earth-1048 said. "They're a news website. Controversial. Hmm. Serves them right. And I don't like what I'm seeing."

He showed his phone to the others.

"How are you even _operating_ that thing?" Peter B. asked. "Don't tell me your phone works on this reality's networks."

"Using this goober O'Hara provided us with."

"What goober?" Peter B. asked, and a flash of colorful lightning passed through him, bringing him down crawling on the rooftop they were all standing on.

"A goober that stops that," Ham pointed.

"What happened to him?" Cindy asked.

"He just glitched," Peni answered.

" _Glitched_?" said the Amazing Spider-Man of Earth-120703.

"Guys, see this," Spider-Man of Earth-1048 urged.

The video was shared via a social networking site. Someone must have taken it at chance. The Spider-Man of this universe was dressed in red and black.

"He can _glide_?" Peter B. Parker asked, looking at the screen. "Huh, I never liked those webs under the arms. I had them removed. Never knew I could use them to glide."

"You couldn't," Ham said, "Even if you retained those. Just the way your shed was just a normal shed in the backyard where you hung your clothes. Unlike in Miles' universe."

" _Miles_ ' _s universe_?" Spider-Man 1048 asked, perplexed.

"There's another Miles from another universe," Miguel said. "Earth-1610."

"We really should check in on him," Peter B. said. "Hope he's okay."

"Yet," Miguel said. "We will. All in good time. Once we figure out how to handle the current situation."

"The current situation," Cindy said.

The current situation on this Earth was somewhat different, though grave.

The video went on to show Spider-Man landing with a girl with dishevelled hair and hopping onto a light post. And then on the big screen appeared a footage of Mysterio blaming Spider-Man about trying to kill him.

"I always hated that fishbowl," Ham said, "Although in my universe he is called Mooseterio. He is an anthropomorphic moose."

"Master of Illusions," Cindy said.

" _There you have it folks,_ " Jameson announced," _Conclusive proof that_ Spider-Man _was responsible for the brutal murder of Mysterio, an inter-dimensional warrior who gave his life to protect our planet, and who will_ no doubt _go down in history as the_ greatest _superhero of all time ._ "

"The disillusioned bastard," Miguel muttered.

" _But that's not all folks,_ " Jameson continued," _Here's the real blockbuster. Brace yourselves, you might want to sit down._ "

The screen shifted to another footage by Mysterio. " _Spider-Man's real name is P-_ " he said, and the screen turned black.

"Don't say it, don't say it," Cindy pleaded.

And then the screen came back. " _Spider-Man's name, is_ Peter Parker _._ "

"The hell…" Amazing Spider-Man couldn't believe what he had just seen.

"Wait have a look at this," Miguel urged them back again. "Have a look at him. Peter Parker."

"How wretched of them all," Spider-Man 67 said.

The screen showed a huge picture of a smiling high school boy.

"He is so cute," Cindy said. "How could they do this to him?"

Peter B. sighed. "We need to find him."

Spider-Man 1048 agreed. "We sure do."

* * *

"You must be Mr. Harrington," the reporter guessed.

"Yeah," Harrington replied. "I'm Peter's teacher. One of Peter's many teachers. Theirs as well." He gestured at the other students. "You're asking me because you're here to know about Peter, aren't you?" he said, seeing the reporter had raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah," he replied after a pause. "So how is Mr. Parker as a student?"

Mr. Harrington waved his hand. "He's a really great student. Always in time. Always top of the class. Brilliant, I should say, if that's what you want to know. He never misses any event."

"So do you believe he is Spider-Man?"

Harrington considered. "So do I believe if he's Spider-Man? Sure! Because isn't that what the motto of the mask is? Anyone can be the hero? Anyone, right? It could be Peter, or it could be Flash over there, or Ned, maybe. It could be me, but, hah, why would I tell you if it were me, right? It's supposed to be a secret."

"And where do you stand on the fact that he killed the inter-dimensional hero Mysterio?"

"No. I really don't know what was actually going on there. I mean we were there, trapped and in death's door. I really have no clue what was going on between heroes and all those weird creatures. Good thing is that we survived."

"You are deviating from the question, Mr. Harrington."

"Yeah," Harrington scratched his head. "You see, if you think Spider-Man is Peter Parker, or even if he really is, which I don't think is true, he'd never do any such thing. I mean, you should look at Peter. Nobody, I tell you, nobody can be someone as modest and humble as him, and…no. I believe Peter is not a killer. Hence if you define Spider-Man as a murderer, them I'm sorry to say, it is impossible that it is Peter. Hope that helps. Thank you."

"Thank you Sir."

* * *

 **Earth-1610**

Miles sprinted his lungs out the entire length of the terrace and dived over the edge. He soared high into the night sky that glowed purple due to the lights that stretched across the city line, the rush of adrenaline kicking into his bloodstream, and felt that familiar sensation of his insides sinking as he rose towards the sky. The street far below him, with its cars and pedestrians grew into smaller dots as his ascent decelerated, then u-turned, like a back-flip, and he plummeted head-first downwards. The lights of each storey in the superstructures around him turned into a blur of a continuous line, one slamming into the other, as the distinction between details was lost under the free fall.

Miles welcomed the rush of the cold, night air that hit him; it felt like an old friend, long-lost, finally meeting him. It had been quite a break since he had last put on the suit, and for a moment it was like all the tension in the world had ebbed away. The ground closed in on him, and the dots turned back to the fast-moving cars and the people on the streets. His heart beating faster every second, his eyes found what he was searching for. There was a banner stretched across the length of the shopping complex before him. Miles aimed, which didn't seem to be a bid deal as it once did, and squeezed the trigger of his web-shooter hidden in his glove.

A pathetic line of web shot out. It didn't even cross the width of the street. Miles tried again. Nothing came out, save the familiar _thwip-thwap_ of the shooting mechanism. His blood went cold. He tried with his other hand, and it too never shot out even a single thin strand.

Below him the street was growing bigger and bigger, like a rich-quality picture zooming in, and he could even notice the flies around the alleys, but not a single web from his web-shooters. He remembered the first time he had dived foolishly off a building, without the aid of any webs, but at least he had had a clothes line to arrest his fall.

Now he had nothing. Suddenly the cooling, rushing cold air of the night didn't seem to be so welcoming anymore. Now the pile of problems in his life had come back to say _hi_ , piling even higher, and Miles made a mental note to go to May Parker's the very next day for web fluid. He'd even ask her to teach him to prepare that stuff by himself.

But before that there was a very important thing to do: survive.

Miles braced for his fall.

* * *

 **Earth-65**

The room had been left all alone since the last three hours until one of its windows opened and Spider-Woman slid in. She caught her foot on the windowsill despite her senses telling her, and tripped and collapsed on the ground. Lying with her back on the cold floor, it was now discernible, under the rays of the afternoon sun streaming in, that she had three claw marks stretching across her abdomen, deep and ugly. Her right-hand side glove was smeared in blood, and her mask, all covered in soot, nearly torn across the eyes.

She pulled her mask off to reveal the face of Gwen Stacy, her blond hair sticking to her forehead, which was gleaming with sweat. Her features were creased in pain and exhaustion, and she rolled over, embracing the coldness of the floor. With all her might, she raised her head to check the wall clock.

After that she blacked out.

* * *

An hour ago…

Gwen had had enough of everything. She was done trying to please people. She had band practice from four, and the clock had just struck three. There was some time to kill, so she made up her mind to do the one thing she had always loved to: watch people go home from work, however many there were. It would help her ease her mind off of things.

So ten minutes later she found herself sitting at the edge of some terrace. As always, at this time of the hour, the sky was a shade of pink and orange, and far below her, the pedestrians glimmered and shimmered as they made their way home. She chewed a packet of chocolate pie, and just watched.

Her mind went back to the other reality, with its colorful lights and a somewhat dark aura that dewed down the lonely alleys. An image of herself flashed before her eyes, all lost and scared, confused too, searching for food and clothes, trying to dissolve into an unknown world, having no idea what happened or how she had ended up there.

She felt the warm touch of Harry Osborn, and she remembered his face getting closer to hers without warning.

She shook the thought away, wondering if she would ever be able to brush away the horrors that had been haunting her since that night.

Instead, she focused her mind ten stories below her. She could make out a man, with a helmet on and wearing safety gear. He must be an engineer, or maybe a builder, done with the day's work. A car stopped beside the curb and a cop went into the sweet store, taking off his hat. Gwen smiled. It reminded her of her father, now the chief of police. She made a mental note to ring him up tonight, just for the sake of conversation. After that her eyes fell across a couple crossing a street, and she immediately looked away into the horizon. Soon the sun would set, and the coldness would climb in. The city would light up with the wonders of science, all neon and green.

Her attention shifted to a building, maybe half a mile away. The topmost floor was on fire, and as she watched closely, she heard the sirens of the firetrucks racing through the traffic.

Gwen changed into her other persona at once, and swung towards the building. Below her, the fireman were jumping off the truck, and were taking position. Two had entered the premises.

There was nothing inside the floor. By the time she was done searching, she looked down and found that almost every occupant had vacated and were out on the street. Except one. Unexpectedly, her sixth sense went off, and she turned around to face someone with orange and black armor, covered from head to toe. The head gear looked like that of a demon, its eyes ablaze.

He was coming for her.

Spider-Woman wrestled with him. The person, man or woman, provided a strong opponent. While their hands were locked, the assailant struck out with his legs and sent her flying back, crashing on a wall, which broke down and fell with her. Before she had the time to help herself up, her attacker had hurled a number of spherical objects towards her, which looked like lighted little pumpkins, and split open to reveal razor sharp blades with wings. Gwen dodged them one by one, and it was not a very easy task. All of them were after her together, and one came up to her face, unnoticed. Gwen flipped backwards, and the little blades grazed the fabric of her mask, slitting it open just above her nose. Had she been a fraction of a second too late, it could have destroyed her face.

The building was burning down. The firemen hadn't reached yet. The attacker lunged towards her, and before the heat could scorch her, or him, she grabbed him and dived out a window, breaking the glass with the assailant's head.

One after another, she landed a number of punches, until the hard material of the mask gave way and cracked. To her surprise, the man hadn't erupted a single sound yet. She smashed open the head gear.

Gwen couldn't believe what she saw. There was nothing inside, except wires and circuits and chips, all ignited and sparks flying off. It was a robot. It's hands had let go of her, and she let go of it, disbelief clouding her, and as she pointed down under free fall, her spider sense went off again, and this time she was too late to act.

Something broke her fall, and changed her direction of motion, knocking the breath out of her lungs. It had grabbed hold of her, and amidst the chaos and confusion, Gwen made out something like a skateboard, flying. She wasn't the only one sharing it, though. First she noticed the feet behind hers, covered in different shades of green, and she looked back to find another demon-looking robot attacking her.

"Where do you guys come from?" she cried amongst the scream of the rushing air, and began thrashing at the robot.

But this time, she heard gasps, and it sounded like a man.

Suddenly, when she was so intent on landing punches, the new assailant swiped the back of his forearm at her, and Gwen felt excruciating hot pain in her abdomen. It was then that she noticed the arm blades on the wearer's suit.

Gwen stopped his fist, and lashed out with her foot at the assailant's right thigh. She jumped off the glider and shot out a string of webs at the compact telephone tower jutting out of the terrace of a building, using it to swing herself in a circle. Web after web she shot at the man, assuming it really _was_ a man rather than another robot, but he still raced towards her, a green-lit sword in hand.

Gwen let go of the web she had held onto, flying off tangentially with the help of the centrifugal force from her former circular motion, maneuvering herself towards a large banner.

The man appeared before her, and lashed out, not with the sword, but with the back of his hand, and sent her flying backwards towards another superstructure. She crashed onto the outer wall of the building, went in some inches, bricks and dust flying around her, and remained suspended, her back stuck.

Gwen wanted to give up. Her entire body ached with pain. Her stomach felt like it had been slit open.

As her vision focused, the attacker came to eye-level with her, gliding down. The sky had turned darker by now, behind him.

"Spider-Woman," he said, "Whatever happens to you today, happens because of what you did to Peter Parker."

The name caught her off guard. "Who are you?" she gasped.

In a flash of a second, Gwen felt something hard jolt her jaw. The man whispered into her ear, his other hand on her throat, choking her. "Do you even remember him?"

"I do," she managed. Unsuccessfully, she tried to kick him away, but the man backed away on his own. And then he drew his sword from behind. "Not a day goes by when I don't," Gwen said, gasping for air.

"You murdered him."

That voice, it was very familiar to Gwen. Muffled as it was, and it could have been anybody, but Gwen had her doubts, though it didn't seem that possible. More than that, Gwen didn't want to believe it was true.

"I didn't," Gwen replied.

The man brought down his sword. Gwen slipped out of the hole and crawled above. "I was trying to stop him. He was hurting a lot of people."

The assailant hurled another ball of blades at her. She struck it away with her right hand, cutting her palm. She rolled her fingers into a fist.

"I tried to stop him, but in the process he died."

"Shut… _up_!" the man bellowed, throwing himself at her.

Both fell onto a roof somewhere below, rolling and crashing. The man never stopped attacking. The sword, the blades, all followed one after the other. At one point, the man had struck with his sword once again, and Gwen ducked. Its blade sliced an iron rod of the half-constructed building like it was paper.

"Harry is that you?" she asked, a little too weak to carry on the fight. The man didn't answer. He came after her like a predator, cutting and destroying anything and everything in its path. "Harry!" The tip of the sword dug into the roof. Gwen took the cue, and lashed out with her foot, sending the man crashing onto a pole.

She noticed, far behind them, the glider was coming, spike-like projections protruded to, of course, impale her.

Gwen made her run. Before her was a narrow alley between two buildings too close. It should buy her some time to escape.

But she was wrong.

He was still after her. Turning around the glider so that he followed her like he was skating in the air, he closed in on her. Gwen dodged the hurdles, the balconies and the wires of ropes with clothes hung up to dry, using them to create distraction for her follower and hide. But then she felt something else approach her, and turning her neck, she realized it was the same pumpkin-like objects, only this time they didn't open up to reveal zagged teeth. She pretty soon realized what they were.

One rushed past her, hit a wall and exploded. The others were very much behind her.

Gwen had had enough.

She hopped onto a railing, and pushed her legs with as much strength as she could possibly gather right now. High in the air, she shot a web at the passage connecting the back of the two buildings, and went over and around it and changed direction, Now she was headed towards the man, the bombs behind her. She raced past him, and he turned around too. Just what she wanted. Swinging in a wide arc, Gwen turned around to face him, and shot a net of webs past him. The net caught hold of some of the explosives, while the rest impacted with the walls and exploded. Thankfully, they were not very strong blasts. Gwen pulled, and the net raced ahead towards them and hit her assailant. The man was caught in a ball of explosion, but Gwen was sure it would have very little effect on him.

Seconds later, in the confusion that ensued, Gwen lunged back towards him, who had just come out of the fire, and smacked him hard across the helmet. It cracked. He went on to hit the strands of webs she had drawn across the alley, and tripped and fell far below.

She had shot out a few more webs to arrest his fall, but it only slowed him down a little. He hit ground.

Gwen jumped down. The man lay, stuck in her net. Gwen broke apart the mask, and her heart went cold. It was just as she had doubted. Looking at her was the face of Harry Osborn, gasping and moaning in pain, but otherwise completely alright. The mask fell out of her hands and dropped to the ground.

"I am not gonna stop," Harry spat out. "You killed my friend, Spider-Woman."

Gwen sighed. Had it been someone else, she would have tied him down. She should, even Harry, but she couldn't believe what she was doing. She jabbed him by the side of the head, sending him into oblivion.

Anger and sorrow boiled her down. Frustration burned her head. Her heart was pounding really painfully. She decided she didn't want to catch his sight anymore.

So she left, and did not look behind.

* * *

Now

 **Earth-199999**

The reporter went to Ned. " _Your name, Sir?_ " he asked.

" _Ned Leeds,_ " Ned replied, looking a little uncomfortable.

" _I happen to hear you are his best friend?_ " the reporter asked, looking intently at him.

Ned smiled nervously. " _Who-whose best friend?_ "

" _Peter Parker,_ " said the reporter a little perplexed.

" _Oh,_ " Ned smiled again, and gasped. " _Yeah, we're buddies. Best, that is._ "

" _So you happen to know all his secrets?_ "

" _Yeah._ "

May slapped her forehead. _For heaven's sake Ned!_ Happy turned to look at her, his face looking helpless. He shook his head.

" _So you've been like the guy in the chair, right?_ " the reporter pressed on. " _Like Felicity in Arrow?_ "

Ned scratched his head. " _Oh, no. Felicity is a girl. I've been Peter's guy in the chair, yeah. We build some pretty cool stuff, and to be honest, I've covered for him a lot many times._ "

" _They build Lego!_ " Flash Thompson shouted somewhere from behind, hidden.

May turned away from the television. "I _cannot_ watch this anymore," she said.

"He's not picking up the phone," Happy said. "Peter."

"I _know_ …" May whined.

" _So how long has he been Spider-Man?_ " the reporter asked.

"That son of a bitch," May muttered. "One thing, Happy, if I see a reporter asking me these questions, I'll punch him in the face."

"Who's the son of a…" Happy motioned and asked.

"The reporter," May said.

" _Spider-Man?_ " Ned asked in disbelief. " _I mean, no! I never said Peter was Spider-Man. Whoever that Mysterio was, he must have been crazy._ "

" _Are you sure you aren't covering for him now?_ "

" _Pretty sure._ "

" _And how do you feel about the blame that Spider-Man was the one who killed Mysterio?_ "

" _It's_ so _weird,_ " Ned replied, " _I mean… he never kills. And if you still believe Peter is Spider-Man, then maybe you should know that he doesn't even hurt a fly. He can't. The only things we, I mean he and I kill are the beasts in Beast Slayers, and Peter's even reluctant to do that!_ "

May Parker smiled. _Good one Ned_.

Happy came over to the couch and jingled his car keys before her. "Maybe I know where he is."

* * *

"I am sorry this is happening, Pete," Mrs. Stark said shaking her head. She poured tea into his cup across the table. "If there's anything I can do to help, I'm really willing to."

Peter felt safer here. The house, standing proudly amidst the gentle woods with the hills around them, and the lake on one side where the Avengers had attended the final rights of Mr. Stark's funeral, kept him hidden from the prying eyes of reporters and people. Peter thankfully accepted the tea and stared at his feet. They seemed completely helpless. He knew he was not made of the material to forever run and hide.

"I'd ask nothing, really, Mrs. Stark, but with my mask gone, Aunt May's not safe. Nor my friends. Everyone after me will come after them, and that's the thing that scares me the most. And about the other thing you heard from the Bugle, about me killing Mysterio, it's not true. Nothing else was."

"I know," Pepper said. Leaning back on her chair, she looked tired. She was dressed in those familiar white formals of hers, so popular in magazine covers, one of the most powerful people in the city, and here she was, making and pouring tea and cleaning the trash of the house, looking gravely ill from Peter's current situation. "But even though there's no evidence that Spider-Man _is_ you, coming out from the words of Quentin Beck, the new hero, false, though, I doubt people aren't going to listen. Tony was right. He _was_ dangerous."

Peter recalled Beck's dying words. _They'll believe anything_. "You knew him?"

She nodded. "Yes. He used to work for us."

"How was he?"

"As Tony called him, _unstable_. He dreamed more than necessary. His demands were unjustified, unattainable, you get it. He was a bad influence, so Tony had to get him out. And I don't think he was wrong. What's unfair, is, everything he did, to you, to everyone, it was all out of vengeance against Tony. Personal. It was always personal for Beck."

 _For what it's worth Peter, I really am sorry._

"And who are these people, these Bugle guys?"

Pepper Pots made a straight face. "Controversial website. News website. This Jameson's a very nut-headed guy. I'll see what I can do, Peter. But till then, it'd be better if you rejected the idea of being Spider-Man."

The front door swung open and a little girl, who could not have been more than five or six years old walked out. She was holding onto a huge fluffy teddy bear in one hand, and a sandwich in the other. At the sight of Peter she stopped, then completed her chewing and came over and handed him her half-eaten sandwich.

"Morgan out of all the manners," Mrs. Stark began.

"I thought he was hungry," the little girl protested, and took back the sandwich. "He looks really _sunken_."

"' _Sunken_ '?" Mrs. Stark looked at Peter. "Forgive her, Pete," she said, and turned to Morgan. "Let's go inside, Morgan, I'll turn on the TV for you. Watch some cartoon. Mummy's a little busy now, okay?"

Morgan threw deaf ears at her. Instead she turned to Peter again and looked at him as if looking at a new toy in the shop. "You're the boy from the photo," she said at last. "My dad told me stories about you."

* * *

 **Earth-65**

" _Where the hell is she_?" Em Jay burst in. "I _swear_ , if I don't find her, she's out!"

The first thing Betty noticed was that the window was open, and she rushed to shut it. For one, she was really tired of Gwen leaving it like that. She never _could_ understand why Gwen loved it like that. Hardly ever did a breeze sweep in.

"She's in the shower, Em Jay," Glory said, and sank into the sofa. "At least let her have a pleasant bath."

" _Pleasant bath_?" Em Jay had lost it. "She's supposed to be at band practice right now, for heaven's sake! Isn't she supposed to be drenched in sweat, along with the rest of us?"

Em Jay stormed towards the bathroom and banged on the door. " _Gwen when are you coming out_? _We've got some_ REALLY _important things to discuss_! Now _get out_!"

Surprisingly, unlike Gwen, no response came. The shower continued to sound, Em Jay didn't stop banging on the door, but Gwen said nothing.

"Damn it Em Jay," Betty called out. "You don't yell in my apartment."

Em Jay stomped back towards her, and poked her on the forehead. "But let her be out," she muttered, and carefully sat down on the couch.

Ten minutes later, the door to the bathroom opened, and Gwen staggered out of it, holding onto the door, smelling of antiseptic.

"Who was it banging the door?" she asked, although Betty could say she knew. Betty didn't like the look on her face. It was contorted.

"You know perfectly who it was," Em Jay stood up, and before Glory could stop her, walked up to Gwen. "You were supposed to be there for practice."

"I told you," Gwen cringed, coming over, and sat down on the couch.

"While we know that couch is Gwen Stacy's favorite place, I was sitting there."

"The point is, I told you, Em, I'm doing a project at school. Sometimes, it just takes time."

Em Jay crossed her arms. "Then show us the damn thing so that we can believe you."

Gwen shook her head. "I'm sorry, I can't."

"It's because you're lying," Em Jay said. "You just don't give a damn about us."

Gwen leaned forward. "I _do_ give a damn about you, you just do not understand."

"Just tell us Gwennie," Betty said gently, "What is it that you want us to understand?"

Gwen shrugged helplessly. "Just about what I said. Sometimes I just don't make it, but I try my best. When I _am_ there, I give my best. Why don't you just carry on without me?"

"We _do_ ," Em Jay said, "Gwen Stacy this isn't the first time you've been missing. I can literally count the number of days you've been there for practice. It's too little too less. Don't you want to be a good drummer?"

"I _am_ a good drummer."

Em Jay Watson shook her head hard. "I don't think so. Gwen, one more time you are missing, I'll really have to think about-"

"What, removing me?" Gwen stood up. Betty and Gloria came to her side but she stopped them. "You want to remove me, don't you? You just think you're too good and you don't need me because I just am away with work? Fine."

"What do you mean, Gwen?" Gloria asked.

"I'm sorry girls," Gwen said, "I can't endure this. Because there will be another lot of countless times I will have missed band practice."

Em Jay cleared her throat. "So, you're telling-"

"Yes," Gwen said, closing her eyes and taking in a deep breath. "I've had too much of you, Em. I'm done with your reckless and disrespectful attitude. You just think everything will happen the way you want. Has there ever been a day you asked me if I could come for rehearsals? No, right? I _asked_ you, just call me up, and we'll think of some suitable time."

"There's never going to be any time suitable for you, Gwen," Em Jay muttered.

"Right. That's why I am out. I quit."

"Think rationally Gwen," Glory shook Gwen's arm.

"Trust me Glory," Gwen said, "It's the most rational and thoughtful decision I have ever made."

* * *

 **Earth-199999**

" _Your name?"_

" _Does it matter?"_

" _Well, it's Michelle right?"_

" _Well, if you know, then why should you ask?"_

" _So Michelle, I heard you're pretty close to Peter, is that right?"_

" _Get lost."_

* * *

 **Earth-1610**

Opening the door revealed a tired and sore-looking Miles Morales, rubbing his arms and left shoulder.

"For Lord's sake, did you fall down?" May Parker asked, opening the door wide enough to let him in.

Miles gave her the stupidest of grins and nodded. He did not get the reaction from May Parker the way he had imagined. Maybe he had imagined her with her hand on her mouth, masking a gasp and rushing over to him like his mother often did when he used to have injuries as a kid. But May was all calm and composed, like this was a usual Spider-Man stuff, and maybe it really _was_. Perhaps she was very used to this, seeing Peter occasionally come back home gravely injured. Maybe compared to that, this was nothing.

"There's a PDNY car parked outside," he said, following her in. Seated on the couch was an officer Miles only noticed now, and he started looking at May from a different angle. Her eyes seemed to be swollen, and she looked suddenly very old. Her every stride showed tiredness, but she kept quiet.

She nodded at the officer, and motioned at Miles to follow her to the backyard.

Making sure there was no one around, May unlocked the shed door and urged him to come in quick.

Miles felt an unfamiliar unease. May Parker never behaved like this. Usually she would chat and ask him how he was doing, or how the web shooters were functioning.

"All the web fluids are done," Miles started, hoping to break the silence as the elevator descended. "And also…could you teach me how to make that stuff? I'd bother you less then."

"You don't bother me at all," May said.

"Yeah? But what's up with the police officer out there?"

"I'll tell you," May said, and stepped off the platform as they touched the basement floor. But she stopped in her tracks and froze. Miles followed her gaze straight ahead and spotted a woman with brown hair with her back turned against them. Sensing their presence, she turned around.

Her face was initially hidden in the shadows, but Miles recognized her at once. He closed in on her, but this time she didn't so ever as move.

"What are you doing here?" May asked her tersely.

"I heard what happened," she replied, and looked at Miles.

Miles, making no head or tails about what they were talking about, spilled it out. " _You_ are the woman who _attacked_ me that night!"

"She _what_?" May gasped.

"What is she doing here May?" Miles asked. "This woman attacked me and my roommate two nights ago in Staten Island outside the departmental store."

The woman raised her hands. "I'm sorry, it had to be done."

Miles frowned. "What do you mean 'it had to be done'?"

May sighed and stepped ahead of Miles. "First you people bother my nephew," she pointed at the woman, "and then now you are after him. Are you also after what happened to MJ?"

"What happened to MJ?" Miles asked, and slowly it kicked in. The officer outside, May's grave face today.

"What I mean is, Miles," May answered, "whatever happened to you and your friend that night had been already planned, and I think I know why. Maybe you know too." Miles shook his head because it was all getting very fuzzy.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Don't you see? These people are SHIELD, Miles. This woman here works for SHIELD, and presuming her here, and her 'it had to be done' statement, there is no doubt why she did that." She looked at the woman. "Isn't it?"

The woman looked straight at Miles. "Yes, for one, we know you are Spider-Man."

A chill ran down Miles' spine. "What? Spider-Man? Me?"

The woman shook her head. "There's no point pretending. We tested your blood sample."

But this was not possible. Miles never remembered any visit to the hospital or giving anyone a sample of his blood. "I never gave anyone my blood," Miles began, but them he remembered the burn in his arm. The knife that had grazed his arm! Add to that, he had shown enough acrobatics to prove their point.

"But why?" he asked.

She shrugged indifferently. "It is our duty to keep track of things. For the good of others, and sometimes for your own good."

"How can it be good for my own when I can't even keep my identity secret?" he asked, slowly lighting up with anger.

"You never know," she said, "And do not ask me. I merely do what I am instructed to do. But now is not the time for that. I'm here to know what happened to MJ."

Miles turned to face May. "What happened to her? Why is no one telling me?"

Right now was the time May started to look panicked.

"May," said the woman. "Aunt May!"

 _Aunt May?_ Miles took a good look at the woman. It had bothered him the last time when he'd seen her. There was something about her face that looked so familiar. The way she moved, the way she stood, suggested she was more than just trained. _Aunt May…_ and then it hit him like a soccer ball hits your face. He looked at her again. It was impossible. He never knew. No one never knew. It could not be…Suddenly he understood why she looked so familiar. Why he felt like he had seen her somewhere before.

"Peter Parker…" Miles let out, "had a _twin_?"

May shook her head. The woman shook her head. "Let me introduce myself to you," she said. "Properly."

Miles nodded. "I'm all ears," he whispered.

The woman took a deep breath. "My name, as you _don't_ know, is Jessica Drew. And I'm a clone of Peter Parker. Not his twin. But don't call me that."

It was all too much for Miles to swallow. He glanced at May. She nodded as if to give him her assent to believe the woman. Believing there was really a thing called the multiverse was one miracle, but this was on a whole new level. Miles secretly felt it was unethical and immoral. Whoever did this must have been a maniac and a lunatic.

"So why do you call yourself 'Jessica _Drew'_ and not 'Jessica Parker', or, 'Petra Parker'?" Miles asked.

"The whole clone saga thing," the woman said, "I know it's crazy. So I decided to move away from the Parkers in every way possible so that it wouldn't remind me of who I am, the fraud I was created to be, and give myself a whole new life. You see the trouble is, once we are born, we really used to think we were legit and original, not copies of some troubled teen. To live with that info is like not moving on."

Miles bit his lips. He turned to May. "But what happened to MJ? She was supposed to leave today right?"

"She was," Jessica Drew said, "She was supposed to be in Canada right now. Thing is

she never even made it to the airport."

"She left early today morning," May said, "She didn't call once she boarded the flight, and I thought it was alright. Her driver rang me up and said that he'd dropped her safely. She did make it to JFK, but never made it inside, or her flight. I do not know which. The whole airport is searching for her, but there's no trace. Not even the cameras could find her. She just disappeared into thin air."

"Added to that there's another thing to tell you," Jessica said, now looking at Miles, "Seventy-eight people are missing. They were all cited at the zoo early this morning, and with that fifty animals are gone too. That was around the same time MJ's suspected to have disappeared."

"What?" May gasped. Her voice faltered.

"May," Jessica said, "Do you know _any_ of Peter's enemies who would go after her, and anyone with such an MO?"

May shook her head. "Every one of his rivals are willing to do harm to the family. That is why I never liked it when his identity had gone public, but it was inevitable. Sure, I liked how people appreciate who their hero was, but with him gone, it was never going to be safe for the two of them."

" _Two_ of them?" Miles asked. The only two of Peter's family was MJ and May herself.

May weakly pulled a chair and sat down. She hid her face in her hands. "You do not know. She…MJ is almost three months pregnant…"

* * *

 **Earth-199999**

" _You're May Parker, Peter Parker's aunt. Is that right, Ma'am?"_

" _Yeah I am, but I don't have the time to talk. Excuse me."_

" _Do you believe your nephew is Spider-Man and he killed-"_

" _Oh Damn, so sorry Sir. Is that nose bleeding? May, hold yourself!"_

" _Let it bleed, Happy."_

" _I'm really sorry Sir, but she did ask you to step aside. No time for media."_

" _Because of reckless people like you my nephew is missing."_

" _He's missing Ma'am?"_

" _Go fuck yourself."_

* * *

Peter Parker (Spectacular Spider-Man) sat on the railing, leaning his back against a wall. He covered his face with his hands and slowly breathed out.

"You okay?" he heard the voice of a little girl ask him.

Peter took his hands off his face and noticed Peni crawl over her robot, which had transformed into something like a metallic dome.

"I'm fine, thanks." Peter tried to smile.

"Sorry for what happened back there. You did look like you were in a pretty bad shape. Hope you're getting well."

Peter looked at the horizon. The sun was setting, and the sky was a shade of orange and yellow. "Just relax," he said. "It wasn't your fault. I think I'll get better."

He thought about Gwen. He really wanted to go back to her. He was worried she was worried sick. The last she had seen of him, he was getting thrashed to a pulp by a huge monster. Had it not been for his powers, he would not have been able to sit like the way he did right now.

"I just wish I could go back," he said, seeing the Advanced-Suited Spider-Man (Earth-1048) approach him.

"We all do," Peter 1048 said, taking his mask off. "I have a friend missing, and I fear it's my fault. I should have thought of him earlier. Worst case, and I fear to think about it, he might have been…consumed." He hated to use the word "eaten" in this context.  
"I don't think so," Peni said. "Had he eaten him, he would have done so right in front of you. We'll find him."

"Thanks."

She smiled, and Peter saw her trying to hide how scared she was right now. It was her eyes that told him everything she didn't, that she had seen more than she should have, that she had done things more than she should, that she had turned into someone, something, more than she should have been.

"I hate it this is happening," Peter 1048 said. "It sucks. But Peni, I'm telling you, because it's really easy to forget, sometimes we tend to do things we shouldn't. You really can't kill. We don't do that."

She nodded. "I know. I guess, I'll have to…I don't know. Keep cool?"

Peter smiled. "Keep cool."

"It's just, those guys killed him."

Peter sniffed in a great deal of air. "You mean… _Noir_?"

"Yeah. He was such a great friend. We all only met once. He, I, Ham over there, Peter, Miles, and Gwen."

"Gwen exists there too?" the Amazing Spider-Man of Earth-120703 joined them, hopping onto the railing.

"In a reality called Earth-65," Peter B. answered. "She did in mine too."

" _Did_?" Peter (Earth-120703) asked.

Peter B. sighed. "She's dead. That's what." Cindy rubbed his shoulder.

Peter 120703 looked away at the horizon. So there was a Gwen who had spider powers, and then there was a Gwen who died in another universe. He wondered, was Gwen always meant to die?

"I too have a Gwen," the Spectacular Spider-Man said. "She's supposed to be with me, but is forced to date Harry Osborn."

"You get her back," Peter 120703 said. "She's not supposed to be with that lunatic."

"Why, he did something wrong to you?" Peter B. asked.

"Everything," Peter (Earth-120703) replied.

"Gwen?"

Peter (Earth-120703) sighed and shook his head.

"I'm sorry," Peter B. said.

"It's fine."

"Well did anybody say we spiders don't kill?" Ham jumped in, taking out a foldable chair from somewhere in his pocket and stretching it open. He jumped onto it. "Fun fact. You know Battle of Earth?"

"Where Earth fought battle?" Spider-Man 67 asked.

"How can the Earth fight a battle?" Peter B. countered. "Earth's a planet."

Ham corrected them. "The great Battle of Earth was fought eight months ago by the Avengers and the Guardians of the Galaxy, the Ravagers, the Wakandan army, and the remaining Asgardians who made made their home here. They fought against Thanos, who had killed half the universe more than five years ago. They were said to have been _blipped_. It was Professor Hulk who brought them back."

"Smart Hulk," Miguel corrected.

"Hulk is smart?" Peter 1048 asked.

Ham rolled his eyes. "Brains of Bruce Banner, brawn of the Incredible Hulk. Get it? He works in a restaurant nowadays. Maybe we should go over and order lunch one day, once we figure this one out. Especially a Hot Dog. I heard his cheeseburgers are delicious."

"Get to the point, Porker," Peter B. insisted.

"Okay. So during the battle, Spider-Man, of this universe, had to keep the Infinity Gauntlet that housed the six Infinity Stones away from Thanos. In the process, his hands were tied, and he had to fight off Thanos's army. So he used _Instant Kill_ on them and killed them."

"What's _Instant Kill_?" Peter B. Parker asked.

"Must be some kind of an automatic fight mode built into his Iron Spider suit," Peter 1048 said.

"So he killed?" Spider-Man 67 asked.

"I don't think he had any other option," Miguel said. "It was _either kill them_ , _or let Thanos kill the entire universe_. After all, they were brainless aliens. But still, I know it's going to be a debatable topic."

* * *

It was in the kitchen, on the lower of the two shelves by the sink. Towards the edge and behind the cutlery was a picture of Howard Stark, and beside it was what the late Tony Stark's daughter was talking about. It was a funny photo of him and Peter, sharing a certificate on the then Stark Internship drollery, which secretly had been helping Iron Man stop Captain America on government orders, but later, just for namesake, Tony had given Peter a one week's job at Stark Industries and had the huge card printed. Peter missed those days. To be honest, he missed every day without Mr. Stark. That is why holding the framed photograph in his hands swept his thoughts away from his current position.

"What did he say about me?" Peter asked Morgan.

"That you were a real superhero," she replied slowly in her sweet tone, every word trying to be distinct from the other. "He told me bed-time stories about you. I thought you were a myth."

Peter smiled. "Really? But I'm in the picture with him."

"My dad could do anything," said she, biting into her bread. "I saw him talk to grandma using those weird sunglasses. But she was long gone."

 _Weird sunglasses_ , Peter knew she was talking about BARF, _Binarily Augmented Retro-Framing_ , an invention of Quentin Beck himself, an " _extremely costly method of hijacking the hippocampus to clear traumatic memories_ ". That must have been a video record of the September Foundation speech at MIT back in 2016, because as far as Peter knew, Mr. Stark never used those glasses again.

He picked up the frame. Mr. Stark smiled happily at him. It was then that he realized there were little other photographs in the outer rooms other than that of his, his wife's and of Morgan. The only exceptions were this, and of Howard Stark's.

Peter's eyes burned. He was sure if he stayed there a little longer, they would water. So he blinked hard a few times and put the frame back.

"Well, I'll tell you a story," Peter said.

Morgan looked at him very seriously. "Uh-huh."

"Well, it's actually a one-liner."

"Uh-huh, but one liners are terrible stories."

Peter shrugged and smiled at her. "Yeah but you're gonna love this. You know, your dad was _the_ greatest superhero of all time."

"Peter."

It was the strained voice of his aunt. He turned around to see her, but she had already jumped at him, arms wide to embrace him, and clutched him like he was about to fall off a cliff. She had streaks of tears down her cheeks.

"Oh god," she cried, and stood back, holding him by the arms. "Are you okay?"

Peter nodded. "Yeah. I just felt I'd be safer here for some time, so I didn't call you. Couldn't delay. Weird stuff have been happening lately, May."

Through the doorway walked in Michelle Jones, in the same outfit he had taken her swinging around the city. Her hair was less dishevelled now, evident that she had part-successfully, part-unsuccessfully tried to tidy it. She strode towards him and hugged him.

"Oh man, I am _so_ sorry I left you like that," Peter said, remembering leaving her in the crowd as he swung away from that light post. After the public announcement of his identity, Spider-Man didn't so much as turn towards her.

"It's okay," she said, her voice muffled by his jacket.

"I just couldn't risk your safety MJ. If I came back down to you, or so much as looked at you, people could be really suspicious. Add to the fact that I took you out around, at least someone must have noticed."

"It's okay," Michelle said, pulling back and managing a smile. "I told them I needed a ride."

"But how did you guys know I was here?" Peter asked.

"I thought so," Happy Hogan said coming in and picking up Morgan. "The only place you could be, because we searched every part of the city, and you weren't there. I didn't even call Pepper."

"You did," Mrs. Stark said, walking in.

Happy sighed. "Yes I did Pepper, but only when we reached your area. You going somewhere?"

Pepper nodded. "Media has gone crazy with the news. My office has called for me to make a statement, regarding the connection between Spider-Man and Iron Man. I'll take this chance to talk about my opinions."

"You should talk to the Bugle people," Happy said. "And find out their source."

"That I will," Mrs. Stark said, placing her cup in the sink.

* * *

 **Earth-1610**

May had given him a new collection of web fluids, but he did not feel cool. Back in the house, guests had flooded in after hearing the news, while Miles still remained behind in the basement, standing beside the chair where Jessica Drew was seated, operating the vast quantity of computers that housed one side of the Spider-Hall.

Miles really felt stupid. It had been evident. The way MJ had lost her balance and almost fell in the cemetery, the way she looked so tired and pale, he should have known, but it never crossed his mind.

"At first I thought you were one of the few many spider people sighted last year," Jessica said, "I had presumed you'd come with them. But we figured, from your blood sample, you are very much from this universe."

"You know about the multiverse?" Miles asked.

She looked at him and smiled. Her eyes looked lighted up. "I know now," she said, and Miles felt really very stupid. He should have kept it to himself. Knowing about the multiverse was really a danger, and anyone who would try to open up the portals again would pose an inevitable threat to all realities. Last time was a really close call.

"So," Miles asked, shuffling his feet, "have you tried to open it up again?"

"We're not stupid," Jessica said, "We know how dangerous it is. Besides, the only one person to have figured it out is in the intensive care unit right now, road-smashed by a truck, I think."

"Doc Ock?"

"You know who I mean."

"Okay." Miles pressed his hands together. "So there's no one out there brilliant enough to do it?"

"Not yet, not that we know of. Olivia Octavius took all the credit."

"What are you doing?" Miles asked, seeing Jessica meddle with the software codes and inserting a drive into the system.

"I'm, uh, _mixing_ , Peter's systems with that of SHIELD's to enhance the search operation. I've activated the spider-drones and allowed them to access SHIELD's coverage to look at every nook and cranny of this city. Especially the airport."

"And what about all the people who've disappeared?"

"I have a feeling it's all connected. It's…it couldn't have been a coincidence."

"What could have been a _coincidence_?" called someone from behind. Miles and Jessica turned around to look at the new voice. Miles' heart stopped again. Why, he wondered, did it have to be this very day for everything to happen at once?

The woman who looked like Gwen, very much Gwen (of this universe), made her way towards them. Miles could not take his eyes off her. He knew the multiverse presented you with people who look like the ones you know very well, and who probably _were_ them, but _not really_ them, yet just with what he had been going through lately, he felt the same kind of anger, the same kind of joy, upon seeing her, as upon seeing her alternate universe counterpart.

"Young man what are you doing here?" she asked him.

" _Young man_?" Jessica scoffed at Gwen. "How old are you yourself?"

"How come you are in here?" Miles asked. "I thought this place was supposed to be a secret."

"It is a secret," Gwen said, folding her arms. She leaned forward, almost sarcastically. "But I too have a membership here. Right since I found out Peter's secret. That was before Aunt May herself."

"What are you doing here?" Jessica asked Gwen.

Gwen gave an exasperated sigh. "I came right after I got the news. The real question is what is _he_ doing here?" she said, pointing at Miles, and noticed the web shooters on his wrists. She scowled. "Don't tell me you're…"

Miles sighed.

"Spider-Man?" Gwen asked. "I never knew the new Spider-Man was a kid your age. Sure I knew it had to be a kid, but you look tinier than you sound. How old are you? Ten?"

"Peter too was a kid when he started out," Miles protested. "And no. I'm not ten. And please, let us focus our attention on finding MJ."

"Trust me kid, that is all why I am here for." She turned to Jessica. "How can I help?"

"I don't know," Jessica said, typing into the keyboard. "People are missing, if you don't know. They disappeared at around the same time MJ did. So wherever they are, I think they might be somewhere together."

"But the airport isn't anywhere near the zoo," Gwen pointed out. "So what if there are more gone? Not just from a specific place?"

"She's got point," Miles commented.

"Maybe," Jessica said, "But whatever it is about the missing people, I don't know, but I do know about two people who look totally new and out of place." She pointed at the screen. Gwen and Miles leaned closer. There, right in the middle of the pavement, walked two very odd-looking people. Tall and oddly dressed, their appearance immediately gave them away from the public. One of them was a woman, with hair tied high above her head, while the other was a man, vampire-looking, dressed in a red suit.

The spider-drone zoomed in, and both people were pale as chalk. The disturbing thing was that the man seemed to carry a sword strapped to his back, and his hand was continuously on the hilt. The crowd seemingly was moving away from them.

Jessica turned to Miles.

"These people sure do look out of place," Miles said.

Jessica shrugged. "Maybe we should go around and ask them some questions."

"There is no need going," Gwen said, still looking at the screen. "They are coming in our direction. I'll go out with you."

"No Gwen," Jessica said. "You stay here."

"Max," Gwen insisted. "Do not call me 'Gwen'. I've told you all a hundred times."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "Okay. Max. Done?"

* * *

 **Earth-199999**

" _Your name, Miss?"_

" _Betty Brant."_

" _A classmate of Peter's?"_

" _Yes."_

" _What kind of a person do you think Peter is?"_

" _Peter can be really…introvert, sometimes? Though he is really very close to his best friend Ned over there. He's a good guy. He can be awkwardly funny, but very helpful. Maybe we can call him selfless on many occasions."_

" _And do you believe he is Spider-Man?"_

" _No."_

" _No?"_

" _I mean, he really has got the heart to be a hero. But he is pretty grounded. I don't think he has the required…powers…to swing around the city in red and blue."_

" _So what is your opinion on Spider-Man?"_

" _Well, I think he's a cool hero. Maybe a new addition to the Avengers. I don't know a lot about him, though. I'm a fan, but not that big."_

" _So do you think he had the mentality, the will to kill someone, like Mysterio?"_

" _I can't say, but it is really unlikely. What good is it if you've always saved people and some time later when you go abroad you kill someone? Unlikely, but again, you never know. Superhero or not, I do believe he's got a human side. But-"_

" _But you don't think he can do that?"_

" _Yeah, no. I don't think so. I don't want to."_

" _Thank you."_

" _Yeah, okay."_

* * *

"These people have totally ruined the kid's life," Miguel O'Hara remarked.

"I remember," Peter B. commented, "JJJ saying one day, about Spider-Man, ' _he doesn't want to be famous? I'll make him IN-famous_ '."

"Guess he succeeded at last," Peni said.

"Pitiless person," Cindy added. Suddenly her entire body went pins and needles, and then on fire. She was blinded by something very white for a moment, and it brought her standing on her knees. Her whole body ached. "What was that?" she gasped.

"You needed goober," Miguel said. "You and Peter both."

"What about the rest of you guys?" Peter B. asked. "Is it the reason why you're not glitching?"

Miguel nodded. "The goober you see on our wrists have a stabilizer each. It keeps your atoms aligned as they should be."

"Do you have any spares?" Cindy asked.

"That is the problem," Miguel answered. "All the rest are back in my base in my universe. Now with those monsters already having invaded, it's too risky. Because I'll have to reboot everything, and it's going to take time."

"But then, we have to make do with whatever we can," the Amazing Spider-Man said. "We need to help the Peter Parker of this universe too, and leave."

"But leave where?" Miguel said. "The number of universes we can jump across is also limited, as the real, what should you call it, _Multiverse Map and GPS Tracker_ is all set in the mainframe, and I don't know how it's doing right now."

"Then we got to take it," Ham said, getting off his chair.

"And I don't know how. Once they know where you are, they are going to follow you everywhere."

"And it's gonna take time," Peter of Earth-1048 said.

"Yes," Miguel agreed.

"But what if," Peter B. said, "We take it with us?"

Miguel shook his head. "Take what?"

"Your base. All of it." Peter B. was now smiling.

"But how?" Peter 1048 asked. Then it hit him. It dawned on him. "You're saying what if we can carry it around? Like a portable device?"

"Yeah," Peter B. agreed.

"Then it's got to be really small. How will you make it small?"

Peter raised his finger. "There's a way we can do that. Make it really, really small. Carry it around on a smaller scale. You get it."

* * *

" _What is your name?"_

" _Flash Thompson, Sir."_

" _And I get it that you are a classmate of Peter Parker?"_

" _Yes, we've been in the same class long before I can even remember."_

" _About what Mysterio said about Spider-Man trying to kill him. What is your stance on that?"_

" _I don't know. I really thought Mysterio was a great hero, like Iron Man and Thor rolled into one. Actually my friend said that. I hadn't agreed because I thought he was more like Spider-Man, but he turned out to be more like a magician, and I've always doubted magicians. Well sometimes, because everything they do is a trick, but with those Elemental things that reigned fire? I don't think those were tricks. But it's hard to believe Spidey tried to kill him."_

" _So do you believe it?"_

" _No, I am not convinced. He's totally capable, I mean he's got the power and all, but Spider-Man would never do that. Sure, he does weird things at times, like he took away my car on homecoming night, but that was just to stop some bad guys. I've never seen him kill anyone. So, no."_

" _Okay, and what about the claim that Peter Parker is in fact the wall crawler himself?"_

" _That dickwad?"_

" _Language Flash! And stop laughing."_

" _Alright Mr. Harrington. Okay, sorry for that, Jacob, Sir. But have you ever seen Spider-Man in your life? I wish Mysterio had said my name. And not blamed him for the death of Mysterio. Whatever. Parker and Spidey don't even come close in my dream's conversations. Hell no, fuck!"_

" _FLASH!"_

" _Sorry!"_

* * *

 **And here we are, folks, where we come to the end of story-building. From the next chapter onwards, we go into the main plot. Any character introductions required will be done in the middle of the story or in between the chapters. If you can leave behind a feedback, I will be really thankful.**

 **And yeah. Spider-Woman's battle with Harry was inspired from Peter's battle with Harry (New Goblin) in Spider-Man 3.**

 **Next chapter: "On A Smaller Scale". Stay tuned.**


	9. On A Smaller Scale

**A/N: Well here I am back with this fic after a long time. Hope you all are doing fine. Stay safe and careful everyone! I figured around these times we need something or the other to keep our minds occupied and apart from all the tension that's been going on, and I figured what better time to get back to writing again? Well I sure was at it, though working on this thing had slowed down balancing time with academics and my own ideas for a story. Soon I might come with a new mystery genre fic. I'm not sure but it's just at the back of my mind. As for this update, I tried something new, perhaps only for this chapter. If you liked it let me know, and I'll see if I can use it later.**

 **Thing is this chapter's completely in the first person. It's a trial and practice for me too. This chapter's shorter than the usual ones, because I just decided to get back to it as soon as I can.**

 **Hope you like it…**

* * *

 **Spidey-Recap:**

Gwen asks Miles to a dance to her school but he leaves when he sees her and Harry Osborn kissing right in the middle of the crowd. Meanwhile the spider-gang now recruits the Spider-Man from **Earth-1048** (PS4), The Amazing Spider-Man (Andrew Garfield's Spider-Man) from **Earth-120703** , The Spectacular Spider-Man (Animated Show) from **Earth-26496** , and Peter B. Parker and Cindy Moon from **Earth-616**. Daemos and Bora invade the homes of Spider-Girl (Mayday Parker) of **Earth-982** , killing her father, that universe's version of Peter Parker and steals her younger baby brother Benjy, after which Mayday swears revenge on them. Meanwhile on **Earth-199999** ( **MCU** ), Peter Parker struggles after his identity has been revealed to the public by a news channel called the Daily Bugle, whereas the MJ from **Earth-1610** has disappeared and two strange figures appear on the street heading towards the Parker Residence, where Miles meets Jessica Drew and once again the Gwen Stacy of that dimension.

* * *

 ** _Current Spider-Gang members:_**

 _Spider-Man 2099_

 _Spider-Ham_

 _Peni Parker_

 _Spider-Man 67_

 _Spider-Man 1048_

 _The Amazing Spider-Man_

 _The Spectacular Spider-Man_

 _Peter B. Parker_

 _Cindy Moon (Earth-616)_

* * *

 **Chapter 9: On A Smaller Scale  
**

 **Earth-1610**

 _ **Miles**_

They're around seven feet tall, and their faces are as pale as the moonlight. They remind me of vampires. Either they are aliens, or they are mutants, and right now I ain't so sure which is better. Turns out today is going to be full of surprises.

"You don't make your own webs then," Jessica Drew says, and it's not a question nor a comment, and I'm sure it's neither a complement. It's something in the middle. I try not to look at her, but I can't see her face anyway. She says she's this costumed lady code-named "Spider-Woman", and it's pretty much too much for me. First she looks like Peter, albeit a lady, and now she's named something similar to Spider-Man. Well, my focus should be on those two down there. The Frankenstein lady has hair rising too high up her head like really some female Dracula, and the man in red is Dracula himself. They seem to be the centre of attraction and for some reason people are right in backing away from them.

They seem dangerous.

I'm glad, however, that there's something else for me to do rather than stay inside my room thinking about everything wrong with my life. I guess that's a con of being Spider-Man. There is nothing called "normal" anymore, and even if there were, the normal isn't so "normal" like people want it to be normal. Wow, I must be really confusing to hear. But that's what's happening to me lately: I've gone off track and am kinda in a mess. _Ugh_ …

"Yeah," I tell Jessica, _er_ , Spider-Woman who's crouched over the edge of the terrace to my right. May Parker didn't want me to come here. Said I should leave spying to people like SHIELD and Spider-Woman here, but then it's my job. She didn't force me back, but instead, gave me new web refills. She said these are more tensile. All the better. The adult, my-universe-version-of-Gwen stayed back with May although she wanted to come too, and May raised her eyebrows so high and scowled that Gwen Max listened to her at once. Huh, they must really know each other very well.

"What's the plan?" I ask the Spider-Woman.

"We stay here and we watch," she says after a while. "Unless otherwise necessary."

Staying alert isn't that difficult, so I decide to question her a little. "So you knew Peter well?"

The eyes of her mask scowl as if she's thinking what to say. "Depends about the 'when' you're asking."

I ask her what she means and she says I have to be more specific. I almost feel like slapping my head (I don't know why) when she says that up till the point when she woke up for the first time and saw the ugly little world with its roots planted deep into evil, and that is before she met Peter, she remembered everything Peter did. Heck, she's a clone right? Of course, and that must be pretty painful because you get up thinking you're just you. You walk around and see the world thinking everything's as it was, that yesterday you had a cup of coffee at seven in the evening, you've got maths homework and you scratched yourself bad stopping a gang of thugs from looting the subway only not knowing today's the first time this body walked the earth, and then you look down at your arm looking for the bruise and it's gone so soon that you wonder when your spider powers reached new levels of accelerated healing. And then you go stand before the mirror and literally scream out seeing it's not who you thought you were seconds ago, so confused to the point that you think the mirror's lying. It's freaking out of the question! Because you just don't only have the memories of the original, you identify yourself as them. _Hey, I'm Peter Parker, and secretly I am Spider-Man. You're just a clone, I'm not. But if you say you are me, and I'm you, then who are you? Most importantly, who am I? Who's the real deal here? And why have I suddenly turned into a girl? This isn't true! It's just a freaking, ugly nightmare, and any time I'm gonna wake up from this dirt_ , only to find that you never did. And then slowly you have to come to terms with the fact that you're not who you think you are. Who you think you were for what you think was your whole life, even if you just woke up today. You're just a fake.

"When I later met Peter," she says, "well of course he wasn't very happy to see me. He went through the same phase I did, questioning his originality. So yeah, I decided it was better if we both stayed away from each other. But then the rare times we met, he _was_ kind to me, you know? Unbelievably, but leave it. I don't know why I said all that."

I shrug. "Maybe it was a burden to you _not_ saying it."

"Only thing burdening me down is MJ's disappearance, and of all those people."

"So this Gwen, you knew her?"

She chuckles. "We know and we understand each other very well because all our lives are not right, and we all lived through a mess which unfortunately Aunt May was pulled into the very day her husband was shot dead."

Well I know the story about Peter's uncle and the real origin of the Spider-Man, but I decide to set it aside for now. First thing is I have to watch those mythic monsters walk down the streets below us, and in the name of attention when Jessica turned to me for just a single second, I'm led to gasp and my heart races a million times faster than a bullet train when I look back down.

Our targets aren't down there anywhere anymore.

"Damn," Spider-Woman says and stands up. I follow suit. "Where could they have gone?" She messes with the camouflaging watch on her wrist, and I get that she's using Peter's drones to survey the area.

"Jessica they were just here," I say kinda feeling it's all my fault. I shouldn't have brought up such conversational personal topics, and now our weird friends are missing. "I'm going around _quietly_ to see," I say and before she can stop me I turn to run down the roof of the building.

But they're standing just right there behind us and now in front of me, like predators waiting to pounce on their prey.

So much for my spider sense betraying me.

And when Jessica turns to look, the Frankenstein lady already has a hand around her throat.

* * *

 **Earth-199999**

 _ **Luis**_

"I strongly feel what the Bugle's doing to this kid isn't right," Tony Stark's missus says in the TV. Yep, it's not right, but that's not what is in my mind right now. Spider-Man's a good guy and I solely believe that, but I knew that at one point or the other in my life, for all the wrong I may have done, I'd see something out of the ordinary, and while everything nowadays is really out of the ordinary-like flying alien spaceships and a purple bald monster who killed us all and now we are alive again, this is stranger than strange what I saw today.

Kurt, our computer man there, is sitting at the corner on the floor all shrunk and huddled up, murmuring, "g _host, ghost…_ " and although I don't exactly know what a ghost is and what a ghost isn't, there certainly was something stranger than strange, and also I feel my eyes are going to blow off right after my head and my job does now that Hank Pym has arrived and crossed the door frame.

"What the hell happened here?" he asks, "And why did you ring the alarm?" But I guess I don't have to answer. The empty beakers and test-tube stands before him should say it all.

And Kurt is not helping very much. Lord knows how long Dave's gonna take to get out of the bathroom. I guess I'm all alone now in the explanation and I know I suck at that.

"What do you mean _ghost_?" Dr. Pym cries. "You're telling me it's Ava again?"

Kurt shakes his head. "No Baba Yaga no."

Before his heads implodes or explodes (I don't know which) and all the brilliant grey mater bursts out along with those greying hairs because he's getting quite old, I yank Dr. Pym to turn to me (something which I'll never ever ever do again).

"It was the multiple men," Kurt says again and I wave at him to stop. That poor guy has probably gone through a lot in his life and I don't wan to make it more miserable, so I do us all a favor and try to keep our jobs.

"Hank," I says, "Dr. Pym, those little pellets of yours are long gone now, those new Pym Particles, and I don't know no place you gonna find it." I wish Scottie was here right now with us. He'd have handled it like Ant-Man.

"You better give me something good to hear Luis because I was in the middle of something _very_ important and you've broken my concentration."

"Okay okay okay," I says, "So the thing is this. When you were not here and Dave wasn't in the bathroom, we're having our lunch," I point at the half-eaten sandwiches on the plate. There are two. The third was eaten by the thing stranger than stranger. "So we were busy eating and then a pig comes in and he's like, ' _hey man, wanna give me your pellets?_ ' and we couldn't believe our eyes and I say to Dave, ' _are you sure nobody has put no magic sauce in our lunch?_ ' and he says, ' _no man, I brought them in alright,_ ' and then the pig dressed as a spider comes and grabs Dave's bread right out of his hands and shoves it down his mouth and says, ' _damn, I haven't had that good a meal since Christmas,_ ' and I'm like ' _so you're real?_ ' and he says, ' _of course I am, don't I look cartoon to you?_ ' and right then a blue Spidey comes in-"

"Daracula," Kurt says and I nod.

"-and then he holds your pellet up and is like, ' _hey man, I'll be needing this, you don't mind if we take it?_ ' and we say, ' _sure we mind if you take it,_ ' and he's all macho like ' _I don't care if you mind if we take it,_ ' and we're like ' _no please don't take it,_ ' and he's like ' _no I have to take it_ ' and then he jumps over the window saying ' _we need to go on a smaller scale_ ' and the spider piggie shoots out a handful of webs on us and our mouths and Dave was like ' _all hell I have to puke now,_ ' and then we were like ' _hey homie ring the bells!_ ' and we rang the bell and here you are."

"Okay, Luis, Luis," Pym says, and I know he doesn't believe me, "Why don't you just calm down and tell me exactly what happened?" He keeps his temper in control. I see his nerves. Oh I see his nerves on his forehead, and they are like nerves on a forehead when you're outright angry.

I shrug and tell him I told him exactly what it happened, though I don't know how long it's gonna take for him to believe me.

"Really?" he says, "A talking pig?"

So I say, "Dr. Pym, if everything that has happened lately is true, then why can't this?"

I just wish Scottie was here right now with us. He would have handled it like Ant-Man.

* * *

 _ **Peter**_

You know that feeling when you see a Lego set that you really always wanted to build standing right in front of you, like that batmobile from The Dark Knight trilogy (the Tumbler), and you get to building it, and you're pushing the thought into your head that it's not a dream, it's not a dream, just keep building damn it, and you're near finishing, or maybe you found those old comics you were always looking for unexpectedly in an unexpected book and newspaper store, and you run your hand through those dusty covers even though they are a little bit torn, because they're old, having been printed about a decade ago but you always wanted them after seeing the advertisements in other comics, and you can't believe you bought them and you're headed home and then so swiftly and smoothly you wake up facing the ceiling of your room and the soft mattress underneath you? Yeah I know it sucks. I thought I was dreaming, and I actually was, but waking up I didn't find myself on a soft mattress. It's a rock beneath me, a rock when everyone in the world is looking for me and looking at me with a different belief, and my ex-dream's just lingering in my head when she catches my hand and it's soothing warm.

My hands are cold.

"We'll get through this," she says, and I know it's an attempt to comfort, 'cause she looks paler than me, and her eyes look like they've seen things longer than a thousand years. Her hair's neatly tied behind her and a few curly strands hang before her eyes like that Michelle-way, and I wish I had nothing else going on biting me right now, it's so darn annoying. Regardless, I squeeze her hand back as she sits beside me on the stairs that most probably lead up to Morgan's room.

Hell, this house is comfortably warmer than any I've been before, and I mean it both literally and metaphorically. I don't have to say it, but it's a lot less warmer without Mr. Stark in it, although I never was here when he was. Michelle reaches out and gently pulls away my photograph with Mr. Stark and smiles at me after looking at it for some time, disbelief dazzling on her face for a second there. She catches my eye and we quietly pass an understanding and it's the best I've felt since before all this mess took form. God I know I'm in a mess and it's untimely, but I wish I could just lean over and kiss her, and maybe I would have, had we been alone here.

But Morgan just came around and stood before us. She's looking at Michelle with that genius intent her father had as if trying to figure out exactly who this girl beside me is, like Mr. Stark's armor that has an advanced facial recognition system which lays every single detail before you. She has a grip on the sleeve of the black jumper I'm wearing. "I don't know her, Peter," she says, not taking her eyes off Michelle, and she says it like it's a final jury decision in a court. Declarative.

Before I can open my mouth, Aunt May changes the channel to Mrs. Stark in a conference in her white suit. She went to Stark Industries about an hour ago.

"I strongly feel what the Bugle's doing to this kid isn't right," she's saying, and right then I know she may be my only chance of getting out of this mess. "It isn't right. Just because some video of a guy who looks like Quentin Beck said Peter Parker is Spider-Man, you can't go on and believe him. What proof do you have?" I know this might not be good enough, and maybe even she does for she stares right at the camera. "And regarding the claim that Spider-Man's a murderer, I fought with him at my side that fateful day. My husband fought alongside him, and he's always been, and if you believe in Tony Stark, you have to believe in his choices. He knew Spider-Man was a good person, and he believed in him. If someone as careful and suspicious as Tony had turned out to be later in his life knew Spider-Man's okay, then there's no doubt about it. And I think it's time we stopped heeding to such websites as the Bugle for blaming a true hero just because they have a grudge against him and need a kid's face to use. Opinions such as Jameson's are untrustworthy."

I think I'll keep my mouth shut here because Pepper's trying to put her everything at risk by half lying to the people who trust her. It's all so shitty right now.

Just before I can call on Aunt May to change the channel because a little girl here's watching her mom lie on the television, she approaches me with something as close to disbelief and fear lurking on her features.

"What is it, May?"

"Go upstairs, and don't come out," she says through gritted teeth, all the while looking from me to the stairs and back to me. "Just go, you have visitors and there's no way you're meeting them."

"How many are there?" I say and stand up, my spider tingle already tingling.

"A lot of them, and you don't want to see them. There's something wrong. Happy's grabbing an armor for guard, and _you need to go up_!"

"Whoa whoa," I say, and Michelle's grip tightens on my hand as she stands up. "Who are they?" I say.

Aunt May won't tell me, and she's gone outright pale from top to bottom.

* * *

 **Dear Reader,**

 **Here we are once again with a chapter, and as always I'm asking asking for opinions, especially since I tried something different here, and it had to be in the present tense because it's in first person and the characters shouldn't have even a little to narrate the story in the past for I had to keep their fate unknown.**

 **If you can, do read the story "The Perfect Meal" written by my sibling who doesn't have an account yet. You can find it in my profile.**

 **To** **Tsyren** **,** **INeedMore** **,** **Guest** **and** **Kyle08** **, I'm glad you liked it, and to every other reader following and favorite-ing and reviewing and reading, my heart-felt gratitude for your patience and encouragement!**

 **Before we wind up, I just wanted to know, what do you think? Is Gwen really seventeen months older than Miles, or did she just lie to him to dodge his friendly advances? I'm not so sure.**

 **And once again, stay safe and careful and healthy!**


	10. Arrival

**A/N: I'm back, and I hope you will like this update. Read on!**

* * *

 **Earth-199999 is the reality designation for the _Marvel Cinematic Universe_.**

 **Earth-616 is the home reality of Peter B. Parker ( _Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse_ ).**

 **Earth-1610 is the home reality of Miles Morales ( _Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse_ ).**

* * *

 **Spidey-Recap:**

 **Soon after Miles ( Earth-1610) comes to know of the news that Mary Jane Parker of his universe, the about-to-be mother of that reality's Peter Parker's child, is missing along with a lot many people, he, Peter Parker's female clone Jessica Drew a.k.a. _Spider-Woman_ and Gwen Stacy of that reality discover two strange-looking people, a man dressed anciently in red, and a woman dressed anciently with hair tied high above her head, who look as pale as vampires, walking the street and headed in the direction of the Parker Residence. Both Miles and Jessica go out as their alter egos to get a close eye on the strangers.**

 **On Earth-199999, _Spider-Man 2099_ and _Spider-Ham_ rob Scott Lang a.k.a. Ant-Man's friends Luis, Kurt and Dave of newly developed Pym Particles, while in the house of Pepper Potts and Morgan Stark, Peter Parker and his friends are interfered by a group of strangers who have terrified Aunt May to the point that she urges Peter to hide.**

* * *

 **Chapter 10: Arrival**

 **Earth-199999**

 _ **Peter (of Earth-199999)**_

I brace for whoever it is outside, but for May's sake I head upstairs. Morgan leads the way, and Michelle's behind me. My spider tingle has warned me on a lot of occasions before, but it has never felt as weird as it does now.

Michelle's busy distracting Morgan from the intrusion, but neither the latter nor I have any heart in it. And for that case, neither does Michelle. I tiptoe my way to the window and pull apart the curtains by just an inch. Whoever's out there are packed in a group, and if I'm not mistaken, I think I see a large red ball that glimmers like it's made of metal and glass. I think it's the craziest group I've seen. The people outside don't even look real. Something about their texture doesn't feel authentic, but then I ask myself if that's even possible, because no mater how alien the things I meet be, there's always some reality to them.

I see Happy who walks into my field of vision with an Iron Man armor beside him like a bodyguard, and the metal ball starts wriggling and moving and something like legs and hands jut out of it. Right then, one of the front men turn up to look at me and I catch my breath.

It's a boy around my age, with a mole below and to the side of his left eye. For some impossible reason, he looks like me - some unreal me from a very good VFX movie. I'd say in the films even the _Transformers_ are much more authentic-looking, but there he is down there, standing right beside a woman who has a half-Asian, half-Caucasian look. The man standing to her right's talking to Happy, and if I look carefully, he's got a long face and tired eyes.

I feel a little dizzy from the day's events, and I grab Michelle by the shoulder when the door creaks open and there is a stranger on the threshold. My senses have never gone as awry as it has now. However, I step up front and gently push Morgan and Michelle behind me.

"Peter?" he asks and steps into the light. Michelle behind me gasps, and I think I know who these are. I'd heard of Skrulls. Maybe this is one of them. But I don't get the point of trying to look like _me_ but also a little older.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Peter Parker," the Skrull-looking-like-me says.

I brace for any kind of impending assault. "Yeah I can see that, but _what_ do you want, and who are you _really_?"

He smiles. "I'm just you. Trust me. I know you're not gonna believe this, and we don't have that much time for explanation, but have you ever considered the possibility of parallel universe? I know you're bright enough to have heard of it. I know I did. When I was your age."

I don't believe a word he says. The last time I believed a man was from a parallel universe, he turned out to be a fraud who tried to kill a lot of people. Me and Michelle included here.

"Why don't you just say who you really are?" I call out. "I know you're a Skrull. Just say your name. I might know a lady who can help you."

He chuckles. "No, I'm not a Skrull. Here-" he detaches something off his wrist and I yell at him to stop. It's some kind of a watch and he bends down and puts it on the floor. "Wait for it."

I nudge back Morgan and Michelle, who has her hands on the little girl's shoulders. But then something else happens which totally lights up the room in a flash of multiple, vibrant colors. The Skrull before me cries out in pain and falls to the floor and that is when I have the first rays of some new doubt that this may not be a Skrull at all.

"Wait," I say, confusion possessing me, "did you just have an _atomic breakdown_?"

"Near miss, yeah," he gasps and straps the device onto his wrist. "Call it _glitching_. I don't think a Skrull would have that. Come on!" he says at my disbelieving face, "I just risked my life to show you!"

"You sound like Ben 10," I blurt out, and I make a mental note to put a filter between my tongue and my brain.

"Yeah I've heard that a lot," he says, his hands raised, and steps further into the room. He doesn't look older than twenty-five, but there are creases of burden and tension and worries I think I recognize quite well. I ask him if he's the real Spider-Man, just in case this is another trick on behalf of the media to really see if the fact that's been circulating around the world right now is true.

"I am," he says. "But I'm not here on behalf of the news channels. This is legit. Your life may eventually be at stake, if not right now, but now that we're here, that's for certain. Things… are gonna come. Creatures. Creatures that look human." He hesitates to say further looking at Morgan. "You need to come with us if you want to live."

I'm about to say something when there's someone on the stairs and seconds later Aunt May's on the door. She's been crying.

Now I know a lot has happened in our lives, and no matter how bad it is, Aunt May never cries. At least not before me. Seeing her like this is confusing and somehow all the strength that I have retained drains away.

She says nothing, but just rushes to me and wraps her hands around me tightly. Happy's outside the door, and I look at him for some sense but even his face is ashen.

Then she turns to the other _Peter Parker_. "Promise me you're going to take care of my nephew," she says, and I cans see he hesitates. I understand, because even I've stopped making promises I doubt I can keep. My insides shatter from hearing May's words. But more than that, I'm confused even more.

 _What is happening?_

"What are you saying?" I whisper into her ear.

She wipes tears from her face but new ones find their way almost immediately. " _Peter_ … you need to _go_."

* * *

 **Earth-1610**

Miles had two things to do: either go offensive on the woman and free Jessica, or go offensive on the vampire man and deal with things alone.

He knew if he went for the woman, the man would get to him. If he went for the man, there was also a thick chance of the woman getting hold of him too.

There was a long wooden table forbidden on the terrace with them. He dived towards Jessica, missing the man's sword by an inch. He shot a string of thick webs at the old table and tugged, zapped the woman with _venom blast_ and freed her hold of Jessica. The latter staggered back, grasping at her throat, gasping for air. The table collided with the man from behind, and Miles pulled harder again, whirling it around. It crashed onto the woman, forcing her to the floor.

Miles pulled at the iron door to the terrace and breaking it free, plunged it at the man. He got to the top of one of the water reservoirs on the terrace and went invisible.

The man had gotten rid of the door. Miles leaped high into the air, aiming from the back. If he could get the sword free, it would be a lot of help.

He was surprised when the man - who hadn't even turned around - caught him by the throat and held him off ground. A searing pain rose up Miles' neck as his body materialized into its full colors, and the pain pulsed through the jaw and reached his temples. The stranger was choking him, and with reasons unknown, brought his face closer, revealing pointed teeth like fangs.

Just then, unbeknownst to any of the strangers, dashing out through the stairs was the adult Gwen!

There was a shovel on her hands and she tiptoed towards the man bare feet. She brought her weapon swinging round and struck the man hard on the side of the face. Blood poured out from the point of contact and the man was hurled down, Miles with him. When the woman got up and turned to Gwen, the latter didn't waste a second. She hurled the shovel right at the lady's head, sending her staggering back and crashing onto the cement railing of the terrace.

Gwen hurried after Jessica, who looked frail and bedazzled. The Spider-Woman was struggling to get up.

"Oh my God Jessica what happened?"

"You shouldn't… be here," Jessica managed to tell Gwen. "Shouldn't be here at all."

"What was she doing that to you?"

" _Harry-Potter-Dementors_ in short," Jessica said. "It's like… she was sucking out my soul. Tried it on me, and had it not been for you here, maybe she would have killed me, so thanks… but that doesn't mean you should be here. Just go. Get out of here Max!"

It was too late. Gwen screamed and Miles turned around to find their monstrous man was up again. Miles dashed over to him, his arms already burning with his electricity. The man suddenly lurched at him, and caught him by surprise. Next thing he knew, he was down beside Jessica with birds and stars dancing in his vision.

The man had Gwen.

"Give her to me Brix," the woman was back on her feet.

Putting a hand on Gwen's mouth, she leaned in and bit her at the side of the neck. Miles could only watch helplessly as the color was drained off Gwen's face and fiery light emerged from her body.

Something unexpected happened, though. Miles knew, watching the man's face turn horrid. The vampire woman let out a scream so high and shrill it filled the entire neighbourhood. She let Gwen fall to the floor and clutched at her throat with both hands.

"Sister what is it?" Brix cried after her and rushed to her aid. She pointed at Gwen, who was lying on the floor, wriggling.

The words the woman said sent a cold running down Miles' torso.

"She…she is poison," she muttered. "Couldn't accept her. Couldn't digest."

Suddenly Jessica sprang up and brought the broken door crashing on her and hurled the table hard at the man. She picked up Gwen with all her strength and helped Miles up.

"We need to get out of here," she said.

"Can you carry her?" Miles asked, looking at Gwen.

Jessica already had her on her shoulder. "We need to get as far away as we can."

* * *

 **Earth-199999**

 _ **Peter (of Earth-199999)**_

I don't know how they've managed to convince her, but she seems all up for it- my Aunt May.

We're on the porch. Mrs. Stark has arrived and is standing behind May, her hands on May's shoulders, in case she loses her stand. She managed to use some of Mr. Stark's tech and summon my Iron Spider suit. I help her fiddle with it just a little more to pick up EDITH. I don't know how helpful that's gonna be because those glasses only work here in my universe. Still, I plan on taking it with me. You never know.

The suit's on its way now, and we wait for it.

"You must be _MJ_ ," the Peter Parker with the little long face says to Michelle. I see now that he has quite a belly. He identified himself as a _Peter B. Parker_. Funny, because even I have a "B" as a middle name but it's not that well known. Peter-none-Parker works just fine.

"Yeah," Michelle says. "You have one in your universe too, right?"

"Yeah," Peter B. says (that's what I'm gonna call him from now on, because there are too many me's out here). "She used to be my wife."

I didn't know we were waiting for a few more strange, unimaginable company, for a pig dressed somewhat in my traditional suit and another weird Spider-Man with blue all over join us.

I hear the first sounds of the drone approaching and my heart sinks further. I'm not ready for this. Not ready to part with the people I've known all my life.

I try to hold back tears.

"We'll take care of him," Peter B. says and maybe it's just the way he says it that I feel okay. If not better, _okay_. I'm looking at Happy right now, who has donned the straightest of faces. Suddenly I'm wondering if I'll ever see them again. Most of the time you never know when something you're so well acquainted with is happening for the last time, until it abruptly ends. To be honest, my secret identity spilled may be one of the marks of my life, but even that doesn't seem so dangerous now compared to what Peter B. has laid out in front of us. About what he's told us. And he was damn well convincing. _Heck_ , even Mr. Stark told everyone he was Iron Man, and managed to get on just fine.

I don't know if I'm going to make it out of this alive, but it is a light at the end of the tunnel. An attempt to survive. So with that at the back of my head, supporting my every move, I bid farewell to my people. I don't hug Aunt May or Mrs. Stark or shake hands with Happy. I don't pick up the brave little girl standing beside her mother, hugging a Spider-Man soft toy. Nor do I go and plant a kiss on MJ's lips.

If I did any of that, I know I wouldn't be able to leave.

I'd breakdown.

Perhaps if I come back, I'll see to it all.

* * *

 **Earth-1610**

"Are you okay Verna?" Brix asked his sister, helping her up.

"Yes," Verna said. "Better. I never expected something like that."

"It never happened before."

"There's something we just didn't know. Something hiding in that woman. And now I want to know."

"Me too. But I think it's time we left. We got what we wanted, after all."

Verna smiled. "Not without just a little more fun."

"Fun?" a perplexed Brix asked. "What do you have in mind?" .

"Something entertaining. We just have to watch. I'll summon my _Hounds_. Get them their meal. And then we leave."

Brix smiled.

This was going to be quite a show.

* * *

 **Earth-616**

 _ **Peter (of Earth-199999)**_

For a change of topic, the Peter Parker who's standing right next to me - the one who'd come into Morgan's room - has a cool advanced suit that has some really sporty white stripes here and there. Maybe I'll get myself something like that when I get back home. He says he's from a dimension called _Earth-1048_ , and that he too has an MJ who he's left behind right in the middle of a war-torn city. Huh, smart right?

Then there's the fact that my universe isn't any _Earth-616_ , like Quentin Beck said, instead it's _Earth-199999_. Too many 9's there. Actually, the only two inhabitants of _Earth-616_ are Peter B., and that half-Asian, half-Caucasian-looking lady (and the others call her Cindy), who's, in fact, the only lady here right now with us. There's a young girl called Peni who drives that red metallic ball robot (like a _Transformer_ ). She's really cool.

And the fact that's common among us all? We're all hunted (and haunted) by a group of spider-eating vampire monsters who'd only rest when they digested the entire multiverse's spiders. And to add the fact that when I left home, we walked into a portal that led us here like a teleportation device is on another level cool all by itself.

"Which universe are we in?" I just ask out loud.

"Mine," Peter B. replies.

All of them have their masks removed (except Spider-Ham and the Spider-Man from _Earth-67_ who's from the year 1967), so I take off mine too. My spider armor's strapped to my back like a backpack and I'm wearing my newest suit. We're all on top of Dr. Henry Pym's tech tower right now, and the plan is to go and rob the place of Pym Particles.

"How you doing kid?" Peter B. asks tiredly.

"I guess I'm gonna be okay," I say in an unsure voice. "But there's this prickling sensation I feel from time to time."

He says I'm glitching. That I need a device like the others are wearing except him and Cindy, but that they're gonna be okay because this is their universe and so their atoms are "at home". I ask where I can get one.

"Back in my universe," the blue-all-over Spider-Man says. He's Miguel, by the way. "I and Ham here grabbed a few Pym Particles from your world, enough for all of us to shrink to ant-size, but we have to get to my bunker base to get a few more goobers. That is why we're here, for Pym Particles to help shrink an entire underground bunker. So that I can carry it around."

I'm also told the fact that until and unless we get to his lab, we have no new universe to hop into because his supercomputer was the only thing that could search up new realities and connect them to the goobers, which, right now, are functioning on memory here, so the only universes we can jump into are the ones they've already been in before.

So we need a plan now.

Because, no matter which universe, we all know how tight security Hank Pym keeps around his building. And we'd never know when he's be watching us because, well, he can be right here right now among us, all tiny and invisible.

Except Peter B. and Cindy aren't coming.

"Where are you going?" a Peter Parker who talks like he's suffering from cold says (although he's not; they've nicknamed him the Amazing Spider-Man and he's one Peter who's lacking an MJ, I guess).

"We need to talk to Ezekiel," Cindy says. "He might be able to help us."

"Be back soon," Peter B. adds and they both jump off the roof.

"I'm sure he's going to see his ex-wife," Ham remarks, but everyone ignores him except little Peni who tries to laugh because no one else does. Talk about _friends_.

Peni Parker gets into her robot. The robot looks around and scans the building. "Alright," she says. "Ground floor entrance without notice is absolutely out of the question. Unless if you think Hank Pym or Scott Lang are going to shake hands with us."

"Out of question," Miguel says.

"This is a thirty-five storied building, and what we're looking for is on the twenty-seventh floor. We go in through a window, the alarm's going to ring because anyone without ID who crosses the vents will unknowingly trigger it anyway and we don't have ID's. Not that I can make any right now. There are AC vents with lasers around floor thirty-two, and I may be able to disable it. We go in right through them, and follow the vents one by one until we reach floor twenty-seven. That's the only route I can think of. And take care of your Pym Particles, we don't have many to use. Each person has only three. Someone's to keep guard outside here right _in case_."

"I'll stay," the Spider-Man from 1967 says.

"Me too," Spider-Man 1048 volunteers. "One's not gonna be enough."

"But I guess we can get in from the entrance too," Amazing Spidey says. "Look, the employees come in and out all the time. We just have to shrink and crawl into their suits."

In other words, _brilliant_.

So there we go, my first heist mission.

* * *

"I'm sorry," Ezekiel said. "I can't help you now. Not anymore. They won't stop until they get you."

Blood rushed out of Cindy's face, and even in a room where the air conditioner had been turned to sixteen, she could feel sweat trickle down her back.

"For a decade you lock me inside a bunker," she said standing up from the white leather couch, "claiming I was safe, safe from the outside world, when in fact you made me an alien to it, and now you're saying you can't help me? I won't accept that, Ezekiel."

The old man hung his head down. "I'm sorry. You _were_ safe inside. As long as you were in there, Morlun didn't even know you existed, just like he doesn't know me. That shelter with its adamantium alloys, the air-recycling system and the reinforced steel skin was designed to help keep those monsters from finding you. I'd told you everything came at a price. Your freedom into this world at the cost of your life and the life of the universe. You didn't listen, and now I can't help it. Even if he doesn't kill everybody, I'm sure he'll get to you. He and the others will."

"Well that's very encouraging, thank you." There was an empty porcelain vase on the glass table beside the couch, and she suddenly had an urge to pick it up and hurl it at the old man whose hair was greying and therefore getting older faster than the rest of his body.

Ezekiel stood up and walked over to the glassed walls of his penthouse that overlooked the city. "You can only run now Cindy. Run, run until your feet pain and then hide. And wait till they eventually find you."

"You mean there's no end to this? No way to stop them?"

He turned around to look at her sideways. "Not that I know of any. If you find any, good for you. Let me know too."

Suddenly her eyes brightened. "You never hid inside any bunker, you walk like the free man. How come they not know anything about you?"

"Now if I make contact with any of them, they can trace me anywhere too. So until and unless you haven't touched any of them, they'll not be much good in catching you. Your bunker had kept them off, and now it can't. I haven't left this building since the last two months. Not since the singularity that night last year. This building's safe for me, but not for you because you weren't inside when they walked free and they've already touched you. They can smell you anywhere now. Had you not come into any physical contact with them, there could have been a tiny chance. They'd have come to this Earth sensing you, but you'd be untraceable because of the bunker. And for that matter, they know you _not_ because of you yourself, but only because of the totem in you. But of course there's also the scent of the Bride inside you which makes you special."

"I don't understand," Cindy said. Her legs felt wobbly and now she focused all the strength on her hands in clinging on to the back of the couch. Suddenly it looked out of world, with its soft cushions and its awful load of comfort, when she was out there caught in a madness of parallel dimensions landing with her back on rocks and asphalt. "What's this _totem_ thing? I didn't get it."

Ezekiel turned to look fully at her now and there was almost pity in those eyes. "I fear we don't have enough time to discuss that. In fact, I'm gonna have to ask you to leave. They might be here any time now. I don't want them here and get to know me. I'm doing just fine."

Cindy sighed. She should have known it was going to turn out to be something like this.

"What about 'we have similar powers but I'm getting old and I want to do one last good thing with my life'?" she asked with the last rays of hope lingering within her.

He looked away. "Peter. I made him an offer. He declined. Now there's not much I can do for the either of you. I'm sorry Cindy. I'm sorry to all of you. And speaking of Peter, where is he?"

Cindy Moon turned to go. "I don't think we have time for that."

* * *

Hopefully, Peter knocked on the door.

 _This time she'll open it. This time she'll open it._

And she did.

She looked pretty on the half-open doorway, her eyes puffed up maybe from crying (he hoped she was, and then cursed himself for thinking so). She looked tired and stressed, and she was dressed in that flowery gown of hers.

Peter was about to open his mouth to say something, but before the first syllable even erupted, Mary Jane threw her arms around him and wrapped him in the tightest hug possible.

"I saw the news," she said choking up. "Thought you were…you were…"

"I'm okay," he said, pulling away and managing a smile. His face hurt. God, she was so beautiful. He could live his life just by looking at her, and if those blue eyes of hers stared back at him, he was just done. Done. Even today. Even after more than fifteen years of marriage. After more than twenty years of knowing each other. No. Make that twenty-five. Or even thirty. Fact was, he had known her forever. And he wanted to see her- to be with her till the end. But sometimes not everything had a good ending.

"Listen, I don't have much time," he said.

"No you are staying," she said, squeezing his hand. "I thought you came here to stay."

How could he tell her that he'd come to bid farewell to her just in case he didn't make it?

"Mary I wish I could," he told her. "But if I stay here, you're gonna get hurt. And you know how that is for me." Suddenly he wondered why he hadn't put up an act like this before. He'd have gotten her back more easily.

But then he knew he couldn't do that.

"I'm gonna be alright Peter. Please don't leave me!" She was choking again, and tears rolled down her cheeks.

"See I'll come back," he said and immediately wished he hadn't. Right now he was not sure how much of a promise he could keep. "I need to stay alive, so that I can come back to you. If I don't go, MJ, they're gonna find us, and I don't wanna know what they're going to do to me, and the others. I just came to say…"

"Goodbye?" she said carefully with a wavering voice.

"No," Peter lied again. "Just to say that I'll be back soon."

* * *

 _ **Peter (of Earth-199999)**_

Spider-Man 1048 and 67 linger outside keeping watch, and Spider-Ham and Miguel shrink and are to get in through the entrance on the ground floor. Peni manages to successfully disable the AC vent alarm (she can't disable any other system- no time for that), and she, I, the Amazing and the Spectacular Spider-Man go mini and get in through the vents, Peni at the front, guiding us.

"Nice to meet you," I say to Mr. Amazing (that's what I'm gonna call him now).

"Hello," he says quietly. I'm sure our voices are inaudible because we're all so tiny right now. "Nice to meet you too. I like your suit by the way."

"Thanks."

"Hello to you too," I call to Spectacular Boy because I don't want him to feel left behind.

"Howdy Pardner!" he said lamely.

The tunnel ahead stretches what feels like a mile in our little bodies, and after some time, we turn right.

Over the next fifteen minutes we make our way to the twenty-ninth floor, when somebody from comms speaks.

It's Spider-Man 67.

" _Gentlemen, they're here._ "

* * *

He'd almost made it. The twenty-seventh floor. He'd almost done it. When-" _Gentlemen, they're here._ "

There was a long, isolated corridor. Through that you could get into the lab which took one half of the entire floor. Seeing no one there, Miguel returned to his normal size.

"Ham you keep small," he said. "We might need an element of surprise." He walked down the corridor, Ham somewhere on his left shoulder. "Just in case."

"How far away are they?" Miguel asked into the comms.

"Five blocks away," Spider-Man 1048 said.

"Okay, stay small. Extremely necessary. I've almost reached our prize. You hear that everybody?"

Above the two-way doors was printed "NO ADMISSIONS" on a metallic plate.

"You open that door ,you might trigger the alarm," the new kid-Spider-Man who had joined them said. "Just like in the movies. Like, have you ever seen Mission Impossible? The guy had to dive from above and still had a hard time."

"Thanks," Miguel muttered and holding his breath, pushed open the door and shrunk to ant size at once. However, no alarm went off.

Once inside, he and Ham returned back to their original sizes. He had to because he couldn't carry those glass vials in that little size. Damn. Miguel only had one more pellet left. What they were looking for was right before them. And in plenty. He rushed to grab them, triggering the alarm straight away. Cursing, he and Spider-Ham gathered as much as they could, and dashed for the door. They crashed through it.

"What are you doing?" an aghast Spider-Ham asked when he found they were headed for one of the windows off the corridor.

"We've already set the alarm off, just like last time. What goes in breaking open some glass-way again?"

The glass shattered, but in the ruckus, nobody standing five feet from them could have heard them. Miguel somersaulted down under free fall. "I've got it guys."

* * *

 _ **Peter (of Earth-199999)**_

We head out right through the way we came in. It' so sweating-hot in here! Thanks to our good size, we don't have to crawl. We run instead.

Personally I'm glad to be outside. It's cooler and refreshing. We switch back to our normal sizes, and swing away from the building on the other side of our pursuers. They are still on the ground, and we try our best to put a healthy distance between us. We just have to find Cindy and Peter B., and then we're out. So I hope they're not too far away. My chances of going home just seem a lot brighter suddenly. Miguel and Ham join us midway, and the former shows us all that he's collected.

"Now only to get back to my place," Miguel says, when the air around us turns dark and we plunge into a void.

The next thing I know, we're in the middle of some rocky land, most of it seemingly deserted. And it's burning hot, and so full of sand you might as well call it a desert.

But Peni's watch says we're in the same reality. This _must_ have been some sort of wicked teleportation.

 _Cool_.

"Shit," Miguel swears standing up, and the way he says it suggests something's amiss, I feel it now. Something says all this was unintentional.

"What is it?" I ask, and the Amazing Spider-Man nods at some spot behind me.

"They're here."

"Who-" I turn around and look right into their eyes. First the man, and then the woman. The man's literally a dinosaur. He reminds me of a T-Rex. He's holding that deadly scythe that glimmers unnaturally and ghostly even in the bright daylight. And the woman. She's dressed in red and has a sword in her hand.

 _Damn_ they look ancient.

" _They_ did this?" Ham asks.

"Can't see any other possibility," Spider-Man 1048 says.

"What do we do now?" I ask. "Peter and Cindy aren't even here yet. We can't leave!"

* * *

 **Earth-1610**

The cemetery where Peter Parker had been buried was as far as they got. It had gotten dark by now. The moon rose like it usually did, this time in its full round glory, casting its pale light which was as promising as the situation ahead: gloomy and uncertain.

Gwen was fully awake now, and Jessica looked better.

"I'm sure it's them," Jessica said to Miles and the adult Gwen. "They've _got_ to be the ones who have MJ and all those missing people."

The three of them went silent.

"They eat people?" Gwen Max asked.

"Whatever they eat, for some or the other reason they couldn't eat you," Jessica pointed.

Miles quietly parted way and walked over to Peter Parker's grave. Today he was here with nothing to offer but bad news.

Today, he didn't want to talk to him at all.

He closed his eyes and pictured the scene today. The woman with Jessica, sucking the life force out of her which could have killed her. Gwen here, who almost died, but for some miracle was still living and breathing, talking with them right now. The unharmed people among whom the strangers on the road walked, enjoying the attention and fear. MJ,who had suddenly vanished. All the seventy-eight people who had disappeared.

Miles bent down and crouched before Peter Parker's gravestone.

"I wish we'd have had something better to tell him," he said once Jessica and Gwen were behind him. "I don't think these monsters were here to eat people exactly. Something just doesn't seem right."

"I don't know Miles," Gwen said.

He stood up to look at the woman with the blond hair who resembled so much the girl he liked. Maybe this was how Gwen would look like when she got older. Maybe this Gwen right before him had been the same girl he knew _minus_ the powers.

"If they ate people," he said, "why hadn't the strangers just devoured the entire street while we were up there watching? Why were they on the roof with us? Why walk in the direction of May Parker's home?"

"But all the people who are missing…" Jessica said.

Miles shook his head. "You saw they _do_ take some time in their meals, but you did say all people disappeared together right? At the same time? What, are there more than just these two? I don't think so. We'd have known by now. In any way we would have."

"So you're saying they're here for the two of you?" Gwen Max asked.

"I think so. Right back there on the terrace, I turned invisible to attack the man from behind. He didn't even turn back to see me. He caught me like with some very good reflex. And how come they knew we were on the terrace, right above them on the street? We hadn't let out any signal. I don't think they need to see us. They can _sense_ us."'

"So _that's_ why they were heading towards May's house," Gwen realized. "Initially. Until you interfered. The two of you."

"Not only that," Miles added. His heart was thudding very hard now and there were butterflies in his stomach. "They were not here only for the two of us. Three actually. I'm a hundred percent sure of that. The fact that _they_ are the ones behind MJ's disappearance. Remember. She's carrying Peter's child. Obviously not someone ordinary."He didn't add the part about what he _thought_ might have already happened with MJ.

"So they're here for us, those of us who have spider powers in our genes," Jessica concluded.

"Sounds fitting," Miles said. "And there's also the fact about what happened with Gwen." He turned to look at her, but Gwen Maxine Stacy was avoiding his eyes. She was looking down and tapping her right foot on the grass. Somehow Jessica also looked distracted, like she was lost in some other thought. "Am I missing something?" Miles asked.

" _Usss_ ," a strange voice hissed.

Out of nowhere, a circle of dark clouds materialized and out came maybe three goblins in gliders and a vulture. They looked even crazier than they usually did, their faces rotten, with some kind of breather-masks covering the lower portion of their faces. From somewhere amongst the clouds appeared Verna, smiling maliciously at them. Brix was behind her, his face set straight and at ease, but this time he had not drawn his sword.

More and more monsters appeared from the cloud, and when it closed, Miles counted thirteen of them. There was a Kraven The Hunter with his spear and a huge mace, the spikes on the metallic ball gleaming under the moonlight. It was his face that repelled Miles. His face was horrible. One half of it was gone, replaced by rusted metallic plates that was in bad shape for a face. He lacked pupils and the spot between his eyebrows was torn open and Miles could see the whites of his skull. There was a spiked metal collar around his neck, which he pulled at with his claws.

 _Like a dog_ , Miles thought.

But the worst part was, it wasn't only with Kraven; it was almost all of these famous ex-Spidey villains. All torn out of whatever used to be left of their humanity. Animals. A Silver Sable with perforated skin on her face hissed at him, and a Green Goblin on a glider which was swirling around wildly above them let out a menacing scream-like laughter that was so shrill and crazy it turned the hair on Miles' arms to stand on their ends.

Gwen screamed and the Vulture closed in on her and howled.

"Get them, my pets," Verna commanded. "They'll be your reward, for I know you haven't had any meal for days."

Miles stood transfixed at his spot. His brain had disconnected from his body long ago.

There were not enough of them to fight these monsters. That was true.

Except these creatures weren't the only ones to join them.

A new swirl of bluish light opened and out came four new-comers, dressed in the essence of Spider-Man. Miles thought he saw a monkey among them.

Two of them were dressed in red and black, although their uniforms looked different from each other. The second among them started firing bullets at Brix. The bullets seemed to come out of his web-shooters. Soon, he gave up using them and drew out a gun which he fired at the monsters one by one.

The other one dressed in red and black seemed to be more ruthless. He had mechanical tentacles, which reminded Miles of Olivia Octavius' metal arms, jutting out of his back, impaling the Vulture repeatedly until all that was left looked like a sheet of green paper which had more holes than paper itself.

The monkey jumped from one monster to another, blinding them, and the red-and-black Spider-Man with the bullet-web-shooters finished the job by cutting the heads off with a sword. Like an assassin.

The fourth didn't seem to be fighting at all. He was dressed in a plain red leather jacket and baggy trousers. He commanded heavy duty boots and Spider-Man gloves. His mask just seemed to be a normal Spider-Man mask.

Amidst the commotion he approached Miles, and when he was near enough, Miles noticed that the new-comer was a few inches taller.

"Miles, right?" the newcomer asked. He had a certain voice that Miles thought he recognized well.

"Yeah? How'd'ya know that?" It was a silly question, he knew. These days anybody seemed to know who he was. Anybody extraordinary.

But the new-comer had a different answer. "I've been watching you." He took his mask off. "Grown to be a fan. Hello! I'm Miles too."

* * *

 **Earth-616**

 _ **Peter (of Earth-199999)**_

First thing I know, Spider-Man 67 whirls past me faster than baseball.

Everyone says to avoid our hunters' faces, especially their eyes and nose and mouth. I dodge my way as near as I can get to the giant man who Miguel says is Daemos, and miss him by a foot. He turns to stare at me with red glowing eyes, and my heart skips so many beats I lose count, and my body goes cold again.

I miss the scythe from impaling me because Spider-Ham gets at him from behind. I remember fighting Thanos, but all you had to do was hold his gloved hand in place. Even if our opponents' heights almost match, this time I'm one Tony Stark less in this battle.

" _Insect_!" even this guy yells as he hurls me right onto a cliff.

My back feels like I've been road-smashed.

So far Peni has managed to engage the lady in red quite well with her robot, with chainsaws running on its mechanical hands. Sometimes Peni has the upper hand, thrashing the woman, and sometimes the woman has the upper hand, unbalancing the robot.

"Hey Mr. Frankenstein," I yell, shooting a string of webs at his face. _Yes_! Blinded him! I aim for the scythe and tug at it. "I'd like to have that if you don't mind. We don't have your bulky size. Sharing is caring!" But he's too strong. He grips onto his weapon like it's melted onto his palm. He swings it aside, and I land head-first onto the ground. "Couldn't you have caught someone your own size?"

Somebody helps me up, and the first thing I notice is the potbelly. It's Peter B., and behind him, joining Peni in the commotion along with Spider-Man 1048 is Miss Cindy Moon.

"Gotto go now kid," Peter says and heads into the chaos.

I guess this is it. I dive at the woman in red (who Spider-Ham told me is a vampire names Bora) and while in the air, my backpack unfolds and the Iron Spider suit wraps itself around me. The familiar new-car-smell is very welcoming and so homely.

Damn it's easier to fight now. I think we are really getting ahead, but the woman's managed to knock Miguel unconscious. Bad news.

I aim a handful of web grenades at the woman (I prefer to call her _the woman_ , because knowing your target's name makes it personal, or something like that) and shoot out when the coast is clear. Boom! I've managed to confuse her. Peni in her robot picks her up and tosses her towards her brother.

That's a very good distraction actually.

"You wanna play catch?" I tease the man (again, _man_ and not _Daemos_ ) when his scythe almost hits me. I trip while dodging it.

From my position, I can see the Amazing Spider-Man trying to gift wrap this old fellow here. Like trying to mummify him. "On behalf of real vampires in folklore…-" And then the woman in red surprises him and tries to choke him. "-I urge you to take off those dental implants."

Spider-Man (Peter B.: Spider-B-Man!) tackles the giant from behind, and Spider-Man 67 does some really cool wrestling moves. For a second I really think they're gonna succeed in tackling the guy, when Peni in her robot comes smashing through them and lands right beside me.

I might have sprained my waist. It's damn hard to stand up. I think of the odds of winning: very less. We're ten of us against these two, and we're fighting a losing battle.

I get up regardless of every instinct in my body trying to stop me and I give my best shot. I rush towards the giant man and slide from underneath his legs. He doesn't see me that soon. My first motive is to blind him. It's easier that way. So that I do with a good number of webs at his eyes. Then I use taser webs and shoot at his most vital parts and watch as electricity surges through him almost with no effect. Standing on the palm of my hands, I lash out with my foot and hit him square on those crocodile-like jaws. Spectacular Spider-Man here jumps onto his back from behind and pulls at his hair.

"Pull it like a tuft of grass _yeah_ ," I cry out weakly.

"Yeah," Spectacular answers, "it's just like trimming your lawn, isn't it, Mr. Daemos? Won't hurt a bit, although might be a little messy. I'm just gonna uproot a few weeds."

Our mistake? We forgot the woman here. She's just left Cindy lying face-down on the ground, struggling and shaking.

I use my mechanical spider limbs from the back to stop her sword, and I _almost_ have her down when Daemos gets free of Mr. Spectacular and picks me by the waist and squeezes in hard.

I cry out in pain.

Peni's up again, and he gets rid of me. I find myself going backward and the nothingness of air shoots an adrenaline-type sensation up my bones and after a few bounces, land on rocks.

That's it. I've run out of strength.

A few moments later, Peni in her robot slides and comes to a halt beside me. _Again_.

"Storm's coming," Daemos yells and laughs as he approaches the two of us. Bad news: everyone is down. I wish we'd left earlier. Out of what excitement did I go and battle these monsters? Perhaps it was hope. Hope of going home soon. But that was my mistake. I shouldn't have, for it has cost me that now. Cost me everything, actually.

I don't think I'm gonna see _them_ again.

Daemos is right. Storm's coming. It literally does. The first few drops of rain shower on us and then it's all heavy. I wish I hadn't been a victim of this calamity. I was revived from the dead, and I thought I had a purpose for coming back. All that'll be taken away with that scythe that's nearing with its edges glimmering. Suddenly I find myself wondering how many lives that scythe has consumed. Maybe many. And today, I'll find my entry on its lists.

I raise my hand and fire some explosives, last attempt, but it doesn't slow him down. Not even a little.

This is it. Peni lets out a small cry of despair, and I'm thankful I can't see her in the rain. Glad I can't hear her in the howling wind. I can't listen to a little girl die. Not someone who sometimes reminds me of Morgan, at least how smart and sweet she'll be when she climbs another seven years or so.

I close my eyes as the man raises his weapon. Maybe it'll not last that long. I'll die with honor. Just like Iron Man.

I think I wait too long, though, for any impact to feel. For pain to burn through and across. I should be dead by now. What's taking so long? Or is it already over? Too brief a moment to be felt?

I look down, and-

 _Holy smokes_!

There are four large holes positioned like the four corners of a square on the giant's chest. You can _literally_ see through them.

" _Eat that_ , you no-good- _buffed_ - _up_ son-of- _horse_ - _shit_ ," a sturdy voice says from behind our attacker.

Daemos hits the ground face down, and a second later his scythe drops sonorously beside him.

At first I think the wind's from the rotating blades of the low-altitude stealth helicopter that's appeared before us, flying so quietly, but no, am I wrong!

Peni gasps, maybe the loudest that can escape her throat.

It's the man she's looking at, perched on to the open door of the helicopter. The wind seems to blow faster around him and the rain's falling as slanted as he is on the chopper skids. There's a gun he's holding, aimed right at the limp giant body that happened to be Daemos moments ago, its tip still looking red-hot, smoke bellowing out of it. This guy's all dressed in black, with a hat and an overcoat that's floating with the wind. He has goggles for his eyes.

But I am wrong again.

He's not dressed in black and white.

HE. _IS_. BLACK. AND. WHITE.

* * *

 **Dear Reader,**

 **So here it is. The chapter I'd been waiting so long to write, since the very first chapter itself. Finally here, and I'm so glad! Hope you all liked it too. I'm glad you liked the first-person perspective, and I'll try to do better. It was a try, although I'm not going to use it everywhere, like I didn't make use of it everywhere in this chapter.**

* * *

 **To,**

 **CombinationLockout : Thanks. That's a relief, actually. I'm trying my best to avoid confusion among readers. Hope it's helpful now. Glad you enjoyed it!  
**

 **Lavine8 : Well that seems good news. Thanks for answering!**

 **Nino : Yeah, I'm back now. Thanks. Not five months though, more like less than or around five days, hahah (four days, I think).**

 **Gmac : I'll shortly update "MJ Meets MJ" too. Was kind of busy in this one. Hope you enjoyed it.**

 **Thanks everyone for supporting me in this story in every way possible. I'd be glad to read your reviews and opinions!**

 **By the way, H** **appy Earth Day all! Let's hope for the best for the planet and also stay healthy, careful and make good use of our time.**

* * *

 **Next Chapter: _The Spiders Meet_**

 **Stay tuned!**


	11. Rendezvous

**Chapter 11: Rendezvous**

The huge man grabbed hold of him and twisted his foot.

The Spider-Man of 1933 yelped as pain raced up his bloodstream. He tried to squirm and then wriggled free of his assailant. He didn't wait. Limping through the rooftop, he aimed at the faraway cathedral and shot out with his webs and dived. In his pain and daze he missed and came crashing down on the leaf-strewn pavement. The homburg hat that usually accompanied his costume came floating down in the wind, torn halfway from the top. Wrapped in his trench coat, he rolled around and pushed himself up. And waited.

The man that landed before him, almost breaking open the pavement as he did, was composed of different patches of what he learned were called "colors" in the other dimension, something unusual in this black-and-white world. But he knew all about the others. And he knew he was standing right at the edge of his grave. All the giant had to do was shove him down the pit, and all his secrets would be buried along with him.

Spider-Man reached for his pistols and the movement caused huge pain in his ribs, which, undoubtedly, were broken. He only wondered what else was.

He had already punctured a small bloody hole in the man's chest earlier, and that should have been enough to kill him. It hadn't, though. And now he himself could not move. That twist had either already badly sprained his muscles, or had fractured a bone.

"You aren't from around here," he said to the giant through gritted teeth.

The latter, he realized with a sense of dread, regarded him almost greedily. He might have been someone from the colorful worlds, but his face was as cold and expression as dark as the shadows his huge frame cast over the grey concrete. "No," he replied.

Spider-Man nodded. "Wasn't a question." He pulled out his guns and emptied multiple rounds at the monster from head to toe until the man was drenched in a red liquid which only must have been blood. The wall crawler was still squeezing the trigger when he was out of ammo and the man grabbed him with one swift motion of his arm the size of a pillar. With his other hand he clasped him around the throat and pressed inward. The Spider-Man's revolvers slipped out of his hands as he fought for breath. "What do you want?" he choked.

The teeth the man revealed were razor sharp like an animal's. "All my needs require is a totem like you," he said.

Before Spider-Man Noir slipped into the nothingness of oblivion, he felt his surroundings change into a swirl of cloud which the man, carrying him, walked into.

* * *

The moonlight shone on his face through the grills of the small window when he woke up. Sitting up, Spider-Man realized he was in a cell and the bed he was sitting on was wooden, held onto the wall by chains. His hands were tied before him, and so were his legs.

He stood up but sat back down almost instantly, crashing the back of his head hard onto the wall. His foot hurt hellishly.

For one, he knew he once again was dimension-misplaced. There were colors all around him again in around two months, only something looked awkwardly ancient. Perhaps it was the stone walls that caved around him. It didn't feel like the twenty-first or so century like the last time.

He laid down again on the pillow-less bed, his head reeling from the impact. He was famished. He needed his regular cocktail and eggs- his daily meal. It would help him think of an escape and make sense of what had been happening lately. He looked down across his feet and past the iron bars of his cell when he heard footsteps. There was a narrow passage outside and across it another cell, albeit empty.

The footsteps grew louder and the huge man appeared again. To his astonishment, the man tapped at the lock with a scythe and the door opened on its own. Helplessly Spider-Man watched as he was dragged outside through a maze of dark empty cells and into the light.

The man slammed him on a huge table, and to his horror, Noir found he wasn't alone. Dead bodies of Spider-Men filled the surface. He noticed some of them were beheaded. Some heads stood staring at him through their masked eyes, while some had missing limbs. There was only one other alive, and Noir watched the giant approach the other Spider-Man and pick him up with a single hand. Then, holding the head with his other hand, he bit down with those fangs. The Spider-Man screamed as misty green light surrounded him and the giant. The screams were loud enough to fill the entire place and faded maybe after a minute. The victim's body turned from muscular to bony and his voice died down. The giant held him up, regarded him satisfactorily, took his scythe and chopped off the shriveled head.

He smiled at Noir and pointed at the far wall ahead. The black-and-white Spider-Man found a huge shelf of webs on the wall adorned with colorful Spider-Man heads.

The giant walked up to it and hammered the newly-cut head with his fist.

"Your turn next," he said and approached him.

"Who are you?" Spider-Man Noir asked, secretly trying to break free.

"I am Daemos, eldest of the children of Solus," the giant answered. "Rightful heir to the throne of the Multiverse." He picked him up the same way as the newly dead spider. "In other words, I'm your doom."

Noir lurched out with his painful feet and jumped off to the floor, landing with his back down. It was the hardest floor he had ever fell on yet.

Daemos chuckled. "Fight. Fight all you want. I like rebellious food. Salt to the meat."

Foot throbbing, Spider-Man pushed himself back with his other good foot and away from the monster. If needed he would kill himself anyway but he would _not_ die like he had just witnessed the other guy a few moments ago. Never.

And never indeed, for now.

His spider-sense buzzed as a spiral cloud of bluish light lit up the hall and erupted a Spider-Man in red and black suit with tentacles jutting out of his back.

Daemos turned around and came sliding on the floor after receiving a punch on his jaws. The tentacled Spider-Man produced something from his waist and hurled it at the giant cannibal.

Noir's vision went smoky when he felt a hand on his shoulder. It gave him the weird feeling again like he had felt two months ago when he'd met the others spiders.

Out of the smoke the red-colored mask of the new Spider-Man appeared and helped him up. With some laser device he cut Noir free of his restraints.

"We have no time," the new-comer said gravely. "Let's get out of here."

Both the tentacled red-and-black and black-and-white Spider-Men walked into the swirling portal the former had appeared from, the latter limping and with an arm around the other's neck in support.

This was nine days before now.

* * *

Four days before now

When the Miles Morales of Earth-1048 had just finished class he'd received an unexpected call from Peter Parker. Fishing out his phone he found a dozen unanswered calls, and his anxiety spiked, being aware there had been some disastrous mishap earlier that morning in Manhattan. The entire day his mind hadn't been along with the class, and he spent his time tapping away with his foot so much that Katie had started to worry.

Midtown High had emptied its students almost at once that day, but Miles stayed behind. He'd bid goodbye to Katie for the day when his teacher called for him and asked to stay back for some extra work. It was when he was on his way to his office that his phone rang again with Peter's number on the screen.

He wished he could talk; Spider-Man business really intrigued him, but he was running out of time.

"Hey Peter!" he tried to sound excited like his usual self.

From the way Peter answered Miles knew he hadn't called to say hi. " _Miles where are you?_ "

"I'm still at school, got some extra work today. What happened at Times Square?"

" _Doesn't matter Miles. Don't go anywhere else. You have to get out of there. Tell me exactly where you are right now. I'm coming._ "

"Peter what's wrong?"

" _Nothing. You come out._ "

"Are you okay?"

" _No, I mean, yeah, just get out of there._ "

Usually after school Miles scaled buildings with Spider-Man, donning a spare Spidey mask complete with heads-up-display Peter had given him. He'd said Miles would get his costume soon when he mastered the basics of all that was needed to be the wall-crawler. Miles still had that mask right now, hidden in a compartment of his backpack which he kept securely sealed with a number lock. On the days he didn't have school work, he usually never waited after school. He would call his mother and run off to grab lunch outside. If Peter was free, he would head immediately in his direction for training.

It was in one of those days when Peter told him about his foes. _Being on the side of Spider-Man, there's potential you'll be in harm's way too. Now although I hate that and will try in every way to avoid it, someone might be clever enough to get through me to you. And if you have any doubt it's not me…_ Peter had taught him a code. It was more or less a pass key. Miles would start a sentence, and the other person would have to say the rest. If the other guy had it correct, it was ninety-nine percent surely Peter.

"What happens when you help someone?" Miles now asked on the phone. It was a saying Aunt May used to sing around, and which was also engraved now on her gravestone.

" _What happens? I don't know. We don't have time for that. Miles, why won't you listen to me?_ "

"I need to know it's you." Anxiety reaching a whole new level.

" _What do you mean you 'need to know it's me'?_ "

"You taught me that yourself." _Come on!_

He heard a sigh on the other side of the line. " _If you help someone, Miles, you help everyone. That's the code. Where are you man, please!_ "

He figured school would have to wait. "Okay, okay, I'm coming out."

" _Right, I'm at the entrance hall._ "

Miles hung up.

He dialed his teacher's number. What did he plan to say? That he wasn't feeling well? That his mother needed him? He'd figure that out when he spoke. He met a bunch of his friends on the way to the entrance hall.

"Wassup Miles?" Ganke asked. "You too?"

Miles rolled his eyes. "Yeah. But I'm not staying. Upset stomach."

"Hah, good luck with that man! Take care."

Miles nodded. "Yeah thanks."

He was headed for his locker to put his chemistry book in when to his right he heard Peter's voice.

"Miles!"

He turned to see Spider-Man's head popping out of the gym door and then disappear behind it. Ignoring the locker, Miles headed in, unaware that the Peter who had rung him a minute ago was far behind him in the corridor dressed as a civilian.

It was blindingly bright inside the gym. A spiral of brilliant white light stood swirling and before it stood Spider-Man in a new red-and-black outfit.

"Peter what's this, and you got a new costume?" Miles asked.

Spider-Man nodded. "You trust me? We help someone we help everyone right?" Miles nodded. "Yeah." Spider-Man then shot out a handful of webs at Miles and dived into the brilliant light, pulling him along. "We don't have time kid."

* * *

Miles realized too late when his sixth sense was buzzing vigorously with warning. He'd landed face down on the floor, and moving his head up to look ahead, he found about a dozen pair of feet shuffling about near him. They were circled around him.

He pushed himself up and found not one but many Spider-Men gazing at him. From among them, one dressed in black and white limped forward on a crutch. "I'll be damned," he said. Then he turned to the Spider-Man who'd appeared in his school and who he still believed to be Peter. "Are you sure it's not the one I know, Doc?"

Miles looked from the black and white guy to Peter. _The one he knew?_ Miles tried to recollect any former meeting with this guy, but he never remembered anyone in black and white, although he did remember Peter had a black stealth suit somewhere in his cupboard.

Too stunned to speak, Miles looked around. They were in some kind of a ship, judging from the hum and the vibration of the floor. It had to be a large ship, because the chamber they were in was at least forty feet from all sides. There were computers hanging from everywhere and wires and electrical pipes lined the walls.

"Peter where am I?" he asked.

"Look he knows your name," the black and white Spider-Man said.

Peter ignored him. "This is a SHIELD Helicarrier, kid. Stolen. For good. Traversing the Multiverse as and when required."

" _Multiverse_?"

Another Spider-Man dressed guy shrugged. His suit too was red and black (differently) and he was geared up like a ninja. Two swords were strapped crossed on his back and the web shooters on his wrists looked a lot more mechanized. "He hasn't been _updated_ yet. Who'll do the honor?"

Peter stepped forward and patted Miles on his shoulder. "We're all other dimensional counterparts of Spider-Man, kid. A Spider-Man in our own universes. I'm sure you've heard about parallel dimensions?"

Actually all that was happening was that Miles was getting more and more confused. "You're talking differently."  
Peter sighed. "It's because I'm not the Peter _you_ know kid."

"What do you mean? Then where's the one I know?"

"Back in your home universe where's it's not safe, although he's the one you talked to in the phone, if you want to be clear. He was right behind you, a few yards back, shouting your name and you were busy _not_ hearing him. You just met me at the gym."

"Then we have to get _him_ back!"

"Relax, kid. He's in a team of his own. Perfectly alright."

Miles laughed. Everyone turned to look at him. "You're all kidding, right?"

The Peter _he didn't know_ pointed to a Spider-Man with a tail, who hopped around like a monkey. Then he pointed at the guy in black and white. "Look at them. Do I look like I'm kidding?"

"He's not," the monkey Spider-Man spoke in perfect human tongue, much to Miles' astonishment. "Doc here doesn't kid much."

"Then how the hell did you know the pass code?" Miles asked _Doc_.

"Which pass code?" the Spider-Man _he didn't know_ (Doc) said.

"The one which you spoke at the gym to convince me."

He laughed. Laughed for one whole minute. "You really think it would be difficult to know one stupid line a dead woman kept on saying to everyone in her life when it's used as passkey? _When you help someone you help everyone_? I mean, _seriously_? You need to do better than that."

"Besides he was monitoring you the whole time," the black and white Spider-Man added and pointed to the screen which surely showed several other Spider-Men engaged in a battle with a couple in red.

"Is that Manhattan today morning?"

"Yes, Times Square."

Miles asked Doc, "Who are these people? And are they the one's Peter was talking about? _Danger_?"

"Yes. These are inter-dimensional demons preying on all Spider-Men. Mostly, actually. They _consume_ what seems to be the life force out of us. They feed on it, and these two aren't the only ones. There are worse."

"What about when we get to the others? And Peter…of my univ-"

"When it's time, when necessary, we'll meet. And I'm sure we have to, unfortunately. But he's with a team of his own, and we'll be monitoring them all. For now, we have other spiders to save." Doc walked around and activated a multitude of computer screens. Then he turned to a door and headed out.

"Bit of a weird, isn't he?" the black and white Spider-Man asked Miles. "But you'll get used to it. He's the one who saved me." He nodded at his crutch.

"What happened to you?"

"I was supposed to be someone's dinner."

Miles nodded wearily. "And why are you in black and white?"

"It's just how I am back in town."

* * *

Three days before now

"So," Noir said, "I knew this kid back from two months ago." He glanced at Miles Morales of earth-1048, who was listening intently, all the while looking back at him like he was just a moving picture out of a magazine. "His name was Miles. Another universe."

Miles almost sprang up on his chair. "What!" Then, something seemed to register into him and he relaxed back. The light from the computer screens illuminated his face blue and white. "Was it the one you're talking about wit Doc Spider-Man?"

Noir nodded. "Yes, I was. At first I thought you were him, but then I came to know about the Peter Parker in _your_ reality. The one in his is dead. Two months ago, we were sucked into his world through a particle collider. It was a hell of a mess."

"So it was you guys," Miles said, his eyes gleaming, realization dawning into his face. "The singularity in the sky."

Noir nodded. "Happened in every universe, I think."

"So what's he like?" Miles asked, already tapping into the keyboards to search. "He look like me?"

"He's a bit young. He's Spider-Man now."

Miles sighed. "And I haven't even mastered my abilities."

Noir shrugged. "People learn under intense, life-threatening pressure." He sucked the remaining coke off his can with his straw through the fabric of his mask.

"How the hell do you do that? With the mask on."

"It's a tradition. Tell me, can you do the zappy thing? Or the invisible thing which the other Miles does?"

Now Miles jumped off his chair. "The other guy turns invisible? Zappy thing? What do you mean? He's got taser hands?"

"Yup."

"Well I don't know. Not yet."

His face looked pretty crestfallen, so Noir patted his shoulder. "I'm sure you'll figure it out, if you have those powers. It takes time, so just ice off."

"And if I can't do all those things?"

"Doesn't matter. I'm sure the Peter of your reality can't. In fact, I don't think any of us Peter's can. At least you've got some amazing powers."

Right then the door to the chamber slid open and in came Spider-Monkey with a tray. They noticed as he approached, there were two paper plates on the tray. Each plate had a banana and nuts. On the tray were two small plastic cups of black coffee. Noir showed him his can of coke in a _no thanks_ gesture. Miles gratefully accepted his part.

"Thanks man," he said. "Can I have the other banana too?"

Spider-Monkey picked the banana from the other plate, peeled of the skin, folded up the lower portion of his mask and shoved the entire fruit down his throat. Then he smiled at Miles and handed him the plate with the nuts. The coffee he kept for himself.

"Who likes _bananas_!" Noir complained.

Spider-Monkey screeched. "Primates do! Who the hell likes cokes?"

"Well I like egg cream. You don't have them here in this ship, so whad'ya gonna do?"

"Good for me, I can survive long without food," a Spider-Man said walking in. Almost the entirety of his left side was machine, which reminded Miles of the Terminator.

"Cyborg," Noir greeted, nodding in his direction.

"How much have we done with the plasma shooter?" Cyborg Spider-Man asked. He stopped behind Miles, and leaned on the backrest of his chair.

"Well," Noir answered, "considering I don't know much computer thing, it's almost done."

"We should go and help them," the woman with the dark hair said. Her name was Jessica Drew a.k.a. Spider-Woman, and she was from Earth-616. Six hours ago she had been accompanied in by Doc and Assassin Spider-Man along with a Peter Parker with blond hair and another Spider-Man in a black mask with red eyes. Their names were Ben Reilly and Kaine respectively, and they were from the same reality as Jessica.

"They're going to be fine," Doc replied, drilling a hole into a prototype plasma gun. Beside him Cyborg Spider-Man was soldering the trigger and the barrel to the rest of the body. "They have a new member now, as you can see." Doc motioned with his chin at the computer screen. It showed a group of spider people trapped in a dark bunker with a group of the monstrous people holding a few others in hostage. The new member Doc was referring to was a woman in a white costume.

"Yeah and Cindy's been searching for us and now they're all surrounded by those hunters," Ben Reilly added, tapping his fists on the slab.

Doc stopped his work and looked up to stare at Ben. "Don't infuriate me you lesser being. If you don't want to be here you are welcome to get your ass off my ship."

"Technically it's not even yours," Kaine spoke for the first time since he had gotten here. "You stole it."

"You have any better idea about what we could have done?" Doc asked through clenched teeth.

"I could smash your face with that drill of yours."

Now Doc stood up menacingly and his mechanical, tentacle-like arms jutted out of his back. "You want to fight with me? Fine. I'm game. But if you can't, you pathetic little idiotic scumbag, you jerk, don't even think of raising your voice at me. So don't instigate any war or you'll lose your limbs."

"Right," Kaine said and leaped at Doc. He landed a punch on his face, but that was as far as he could get. Two of the mechanical arms of Doc held him in place and the other two raised themselves, their ends pointed.

"Alright that's enough!" Jessica cried aloud, "You men are so full of your damn ego you don't realize you're on the _same_ side fighting a _common_ foe! You want to kill him, Doc? That's what you mean by a hero by killing another?"

The mechanical arms that held Kaine flung him at the wall.

"Unlike you, I don't hesitate to do what's _necessary_ ," Doc said.

"What's 'necessary'?" Ben asked.

"You know what," Doc muttered. "It's what you lesser beings call mercy. _I show no mercy_."

"What do you mean 'lesser beings'?" Jessica said, but Doc ignored her. He walked out of the laboratory, slamming the door shut behind him.

"He keeps calling himself _superior_ ," a Spider-Man with six arms said.

" _Proud_ is what he is," Jessica replied.

"Can't we go on our own?" Ben Reilly asked. "I mean, he doesn't wanna come? Okay fine! But we can, right?"

"We could, but he's deactivated the GPS," Miles said. "It went right with him just now."

* * *

Seventy-four minutes before now

When the debacle happened on Earth-1610 Doc readily agreed to interfere on the spiders' behalf, but any help to the other group stranded on Earth-616 he denied.

"I can only be one place at a time," he said when approached by Noir. The thing was he never really wanted to be anywhere near the latter group. Seeing them on the screen or even watching them boiled his blood and he could never really help feeling hateful and offended.

"Fine, then allow me to go," Noir said. "I don't want to watch them die now. Have waited long enough."

"Your leg."

Noir dropped the crutch to the floor. "My leg's fine now. It wasn't as bad as I'd thought." He pointed to the screens. "But this you're watching, that's bad enough."

"I don't want to be begging you, but please, let us go now," Jessica Drew said. "They're my friends there. People I've known most of my life."

Doc sighed and turned away. "Your sentiment will get you nowhere," he said. "But you don't have to beg me. I'm not a villain. I'd created enough inter dimensional GPS for the lot of you. But do be aware to put them on, or else you'll smolder to death out in the multiverse."

Miles Morales walked through the door at that moment, putting on a brand new red leather jacket and heavy-duty boots he had found in the lockers of the helicarrier inside the _Weapons, Utility and Gear_ section. There was a Spider-Man mask in his left hand. And in the other was a hat, which he handed over to Noir.

"I'll go as well," he said aloud. "I decided I'd like to help out a little bit. Shouldn't be that bad."

"Where do you want to go?" Jessica asked. "Which one?"

"To his friend, of course," Noir said.

Miles looked at the two large displays. Each showed a different reality. There was a scene in a desert in one of them, where his _friend_ was potentially getting his ass kicked off by two of the spider hunters. One was the large T-Rex guy, as Noir called him, while the other was a woman dressed in red, the same one who'd gone to Miles' own home reality before. The second screen, on the other hand, showed the other Miles and two women surrounded on all sides by a horde of the scary dudes.

"Peter can take care of himself," Miles decided.

"No he can't," Doc chuckled.

Miles shrugged. "But I'm sure you guys can handle it well. It's the other guys that need more hand."

"Well then, tag along then," Doc said finally after a minute had passed. "The Assassin'll come with me, and so is Monkey. You have your web shooters, kid?"

Miles nodded, pulling back the sleeves of his jacket to show them what Peter had gifted him with much earlier, modified exactly to his physique. "Where's Cyborg Spider-Man?" he asked. "Haven't seen him for a while."

"Busy," Doc replied.

"Right, we shall meet here right?" Spider-Monkey asked.

"Rendezvous," Doc nodded. "Here, yes. Someone's got to stay behind and operate the mini collider, because a lot of people are gonna walk back in together now."

"I'll do it," the six armed Spider-Man volunteered.

Doc gave his assent. He slipped on his gizmo onto his wrist and everybody else followed suit. Then he fiddled with the watch and opened a bright blue spiral of a portal to Earth-1610. Miles put his mask on and followed, along with Assassin Spider-Man and Spider-Monkey.

It was like walking through a bright tunnel among the stars. All around him he could see the expanse of the multiverse, all in the form of stars clustered infinitely. It sent a cold running down his spine and he felt the hair stand on his arms. His spider sense felt weird, and it gave of hints that there was danger ahead.

Everyone started to sprint, and so did he. It wasn't a long distance, though. Just a few feet into the brilliant light, blinding him all. Trusting the others he jumped into the great unknown, and was pulled back into reality, but not exactly his or the one he had been before.

It had grown dark here, just as he had seen on the computer screen. And danger was abundant in smell here. No sooner had he landed that he heard the sound of gunshots. It was the Assassin Spider-Man, he noticed. Bullets seemed to erupt from where instead webs were supposed to. Doc had his mechanical arms out and there were boring holes into a version of the Vulture. Spider-Monkey screeched and hopped from here to there, shooting his webs and blinding the Hounds. There was the slice of sword and Miles turned to find monster heads flying high into the sky.

Peter had never taught him such violence before. Seeing them repelled him and jolted him back to a stark sense of reality hitting home. This was more than had asked for. He couldn't kill.

It was then that he noticed the current Spider-Man of this reality- another Miles Morales- standing still and surprised. He was dressed in a Spider-Man costume of his own, red and black, and it looked like spandex. He had his mask on.

Miles approached him and noticed that the Miles of this universe was a few inches shorter. That was when he remembered Noir telling him that this one was younger.

"Miles, right?" he asked.

"Yeah," Miles Morales of Earth-1610 answered. "How'd'ya know that?"

Miles of Earth-1048 shrugged. "I've been watching you," he said and took off his mask. "Grown to be a big fan. Hello! I'm Miles too."

* * *

Now

 _Day -10_

Bora pulled out her knives from the sleeves of her coat. Two spiders ahead- the bastard from Earth-1048 and the other was the pig from Earth-8311. Shouldn't be hard to take down, except her brother was somewhere there ahead, dead. As much as she wasn't worried about it, she was surprised. Two things were new to her. First, the black and white spider was still alive when they'd all assumed Daemos had devoured him. Second, that these insignificant insects could actually kill their lot. This meant unpleasant news, but she hoped that it was only a stroke of luck: the spiders' successful first kill. She smiled. It wasn't going to happen again.

It was only a matter of time. And she had just caught a new smell, something that had suddenly vanished the last time she had felt it.

The totems always had a scent about themselves, and now there were two of them.

The pig lurched with his hammer double the size of himself and the other guy followed a brief second later. Bora braced for the hammer. She was used to coordinated attacks. The pretended moving to the left but slid to the right, allowing the pig's momentum to carry him forward and off-balance. She then clasped at his leg and spun him around and hurled him at the other spider. The hammer was let go but the two collided.

Next was the Bride herself. Bora could hurt her, but couldn't consume her. Not yet. She picked up Spider-Ham's hammer and swiped it at the bride, hoping to make a dislocated jaw. Unbeknownst to her, Jessica Drew had gotten behind her and had delivered a hard blow to the back of her head. Bora missed the Bride by inches.

Then another spider came- she didn't see who- and entrapped her in a wrap of good-strength webs.

It was the other totem, the spider from Earth-616 who was dressed in red and black who delivered the final punch.

Bora made all effort to properly receive it.

And then it was time.

Spider-Man Noir helped Peni and the Iron Spider of Earth-199999 up. Then he went to Miguel, who was squirming around on the ground, exhausted.

"I'm dreaming, ain't I?" Miguel asked.

"No I think I'm real," Noir replied. He held his hand out and Miguel grasped it, pulling himself up.

"Who is this guy?" Iron Spider asked.

"Somebody supposed to be dead," Miguel answered. "You okay dude?"

"Yeah."

"Considering we're just talking with a spider hunter tied behind us," Ben Reilly pointed out, approaching them. "All thanks to that guy," he said, pointing his finger at the Amazing Spider-Man. "Great with his webs."

The storm had cooled by now, and the rain had subsided. As Noir looked around him, the sky cleared a little and sunlight fell on them. There were the people from his previous gang. Peni, the pot-bellied guy, and Spider-Ham. The Miles Morales he knew was must have been back at the _shielded_ helicopter-carrier thing by now, probably busy conversing with the other Miles. Only he didn't know about Gwen.

"Not to sound rude," Peter B. said, looking at him, "but getting to the point, how did you survive?"

"It's a long story."

"Are you sure?"

Noir smiled beneath the mask. "Yeah I'm sure this time."

"I'm so glad you're with us," Peni said. "Last time was awesome, the six of us. I fixed my SP/dr, by the way."

"Yeah I noticed. Looks cooler."

"What do we do with the lady?" Kaine asked.

"I don't wanna go anywhere with her around," Ham said aloud, feeling electricity buzz in his arms. "I say we throw her into the sty. Perhaps she decides to go vegetarian for a while."

"She ain't going anywhere," somebody said from behind.

When the spiders turned around to see, they couldn't believe their eyes. It was impossible. Daemos was standing right there, about ten yards from them, right beside his own dead body. He bent down to pick his own corpse.

"If you must know, I'm quite fond of myself," he said, examining the hole Spider-Noir had made in his chest. Then he dropped the dead body, or rather, his previous body.

"They're ghosts now?" Ham asked.

"He's got a shadow, and he just picked up that corpse," the Spectacular Spider-Man answered. "So I don't think it's a ghost."

Turning back, both Jessica Drew and Cindy found Bora looking ahead at them, a satisfactory glint in her eyes. She must have regained some strength, for she tore at the webs and stood up.

She stayed there, watching curiously.

"The _Other_ is here Brother," she called out, pointing at Kaine. "Too bad he touched me."

"I'm sure he'll have a hell of a good time now," Daemos said, smiling.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Ben asked.

"That's supposed to mean bad news," Miguel said.

"It means she'll be able to follow him anywhere now," Cindy said. "Like they're able to track all of us."

In the broad daylight, a portal opened and out of it walked out Brix and Verna. A little later, two other figures walked out and the portal closed. The first guy was one the spiders had seen back in Miguel's lab, and the other guy was Morlun.

They stood surrounding them on all sides. Morlun and the other vampire to the left, Verna and Brix to the right, Daemos up ahead and Bora behind them.

"Yeah?" Noir called. The storm was coming back now, and the first drops of rain began to fall. Dark clouds had rolled all over again, this time blocking out the sun even more. "Where's your seventh?"

"What do you mean _seventh_?" Peter B. asked.

"There's one more to them, as much as I know," Noir answered. "The guy in the swimming mask. He seems to be missing from the action."

"The six of us are enough," Daemos said. "You wouldn't want Karn now, would you?" He stepped closer and his brothers and sisters did the same.

"There's two of you now," Bora called from the back. "I couldn't let them miss the party. It's going to be a feast!"

"Then allow us to join as well," a voice said out of nowhere. The Earth around them dissolved into strange colors, like someone had spilled inks of different colors on a canvas. As they all watched, their surrounding turned to a space-like scenery.

It was a portal, and the Superior Spider-Man was standing right there.

"Doc," Noir greeted him, and Doc nodded.

A few other figures materialized.

As the spiders noticed, the two Miles' materialized before them. One was in his costume, while the other was in a red jacket and baggy trousers. There was a terrifying screech and then Assassin Spider-Man was standing with all of them, Spider-Monkey beside him.

The last of them were Jessica Drew of Earth-1610 in her red costume with the large white spider logo, and a blond woman in a black biker's jacket.

"Gwen?" the Amazing Spider-Man called, but mostly to himself so that only he heard himself.

They seemed to be standing on the universe now. They path they were standing on was gleaming with whitish light. They vampires closed in on them, and the spiders huddled closer.

"He is supposed to be dead," Doc said to nobody in particular.

"But haven't there been surprises today?" Miguel responded aloud.

"Who _are_ you guys?" Doc asked, looking at Daemos.

Morlun smiled. "We are the Inheritors of _all_ things living."

"Yeah right," Peter B. snorted nervously. "And we're the board of directors." He brushed tears from his eyes. He wasn't sure if it was just from the excitement and all the surprises, or if something had actually gotten into his eyes. "I was kidding. We're the Spider-Gang."

* * *

 _ **Spiders and civilians in the territory:**_

 _Peter B. Parker (E-616), Cindy Moon (E-616), Kaine (E-616), Ben Reilly (E-616), Jessica Drew (E-616), Jessica Drew (E-1610), Gwen Stacy (E-1610), Miles Morales (E-1610), Miles Morales (E-1048), Peter Parker (E-1048), the Amazing Spider-Man (E-120703), the Spectacular Spider-Man (E-26496), Iron Spider/Spider-Man (E-199999/MCU), Peni Parker (E-14512), Spider-Ham (E-8311), Peter Parker (E-67), Spider-Man Noir (E-90214), Assassin Spider- Man, Spider-Monkey, Miguel O'Hara/Spider-Man 2099, Superior Spider-Man/Doc._

 _ **Spiders missing from the action: **_

_Six-Armed Spider-Man, Cyborg Spider-Man._

 _ **Other Occupants:**_

 _Daemos, Morlun, Verna, unknown guy, Bora, Brix._

* * *

 **A/N: As opposed to stated in the previous chapter, I named this one "Rendezvous". It sounded better. I enjoyed writing this, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as well. Thanks everyone for all your support till now. **

**_vivi yawns_ , thanks! As for how often I update this story, it has been irregular yet, I accept it. Since I'll be occupied for a while, you can expect the next update by the end of next month. If possible, I'll try to do it early. According to recent trends, it takes around two weeks to two months for new updates, but I'll see if I can update sooner.**

 **Folks, please drop a review. I'm counting on you.**


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